Code 9
by unslinky
Summary: Set within UNIT following the events of Journey's End. Martha's day to day business is interrupted by an unexpected Code 9. Multi-chapter. Includes plenty of Doctor Whump.
1. Chapter 1

"This is Doctor Martha Jones, the time is 09.27 on the 3rd of March 2009 and I'm about to begin the autopsy on subject 76584. I am being assisted by junior medical technician Private Gerald Sutherland. The subject of our autopsy was discovered during a routine salvage mission on 1st March 2009. At the time of the discovery Subject 76584 was already deceased. He… she… or possibly it, any sexual orientation is yet to be determined, was located at the rear of an unidentified vessel which crashed in the foothills of the Andes.

"The deceased organism was located in what has been described as a holding pen. I have photographs of the scene where and I believe the subject to be a prisoner or possibly livestock being transported on the vessel. It is unclear if the subject is a member of a species that would be considered sentient and intelligent. At this time there are no indications of the origins of the spacecraft. It is not of a design known to UNIT and we have yet been able to locate any pilots or crew, hence the urgency of this autopsy. My brief is to record and report any pertinent information which could assist in identifying any threat this incursion into Earth territories may bring to the peoples, or the resources, of our planet.

"The immediate custody and transfer of the subject was personally undertaken by Brigadier Alistair Stewart and I have been led to believe he insisted this lab took responsibility for determining the nature of the organism, the cause of its death, and whether it should be considered a threat. My involvement in this case was requested due to my experience in the field; however, I've not seen anything like this organism before, either in the extensive UNIT libraries or in my travels – documented or otherwise.

"It appears to be entirely covered in a reflective substance; it was originally described as some kind of armoured skin-suit, however, my observations lead me to believe this organism is in fact protected by some kind of integrated exoskeleton. It is bipedal and conforms to the symmetry of a humanoid type organism; it measures… 227 cm from foot to toe; that is just over 7 foot? Visual observation of the hip joints would suggest this organism is as comfortable walking on all fours as it would be walking upright. There are no visible features on the subject's head; nothing that could be described as eyes or a nose or a mouth or ears. Without further examination I can identify no sensory organs. Initial pre-autopsy attempts to X-ray the organism have resulted in failure as the outer scaled layer is impervious to our scans.

"The subject's whole body is covered in thick scales ranging from 5cm to 15cm in diameter, all fitting together in a hexagonal pattern. They appear to be a uniform mid grey colour, however, as was discovered during transport, when exposed to ultra violet light there is a shift and the scales become iridescent, like oil on water and the grey illuminates to turquoise. I will take a sample for analysis once the visual observations are completed.

"There are some marks and abrasions on the subject's body which likely indicate injury was received during the crash. One wound appears especially serious and is located at what I believe is the rear of the subject's head. The absence of facial features or obvious gender specific organs seems to make the idea of front and back arbitrary. As the creature is lying on the table at the present time the wound is located at the rear, however, this may in fact be due to the orientation of the subject rather than an accurate biological description. The wound to the organism's head is significant and pending further investigation a potential cause of death.

"Subject 76584 is intriguing and unlike any life form I have previously encountered. From visual observations I am unable to determine how this organism respires, feeds, reproduces, interprets the local environment, or communicates with other members of its species if it is indeed capable of such communication. There are four distinct appendages on each of the two upper limbs. The entire body is covered in the hexagonal scales save for the lower abdominal area where a gelatinous compound appears to have adhered to a cellular tissue. The cells within this gelatinous compound are uniform and roughly spherical. It is unclear whether this is the result of some kind of injury or is a natural state for the organism. Again, I will take samples once visual examination of the subject is complete.

"I am going to begin by further examining the wound to the subject's head…" Martha took up a pair of tweezers from the tray of tools at her side. She was just about to attempt to clear some tissue from the wound when there was a knock on the Perspex screen separating the self-contained, sterile autopsy lab from the rest of the science and medical block of the UNIT centre of operations.

"Go and see what they want, Gerald, would you, please?" Martha didn't want to delay the autopsy any further. The subject had already been transported half way round the globe. It was refrigerated but would not keep forever. With an unknown alien spacecraft crashed in the Andes she needed to find out what she could and relay that information back to the Peruvian office. UNIT were pushing for answers because of a potential alien threat. Martha accepted that was true, but after such a crash she was worried there may be injured aliens requiring medical assistance.

Gerald, her assistant went to the metal grille positioned in the side of the Perspex screen. He pressed the intercom button and spoke to the UNIT soldier on the other side who'd requested their attention, but could not enter the autopsy lab without the protective clothing and face shields Martha and Gerald were wearing while dealing with the quarantined alien corpse.

"Doctor Jones?" Gerald addressed her formally when there were soldiers around. A previous medical assistant had been hauled in front of a disciplinary board after being heard to call her Martha whilst working on a traumatic case. She'd been disgusted by the military inability to accept first name terms, but it was not the time to be pushing. "Colonel Mace is requesting your attendance at an incident in Warehouse 7."

"What, right this minute?" Martha removed her face mask and went over to the window to talk to the UNIT soldier directly. She recognised him as one of the last intake having conducted his medical assessments at the start and again at the end of his training period. He seemed very young. Many of the new intakes did as UNIT had been required to reduce their minimum recruitment age having lost so many soldiers during the Dalek invasion and Earth's trip to the Medusa Cascade. "Private Coates isn't it?"

"Yes Ma'am." Came his tinny response through the intercom.

"I am sure you can see I'm rather busy. If Colonel Mace has requested a medical officer attend Warehouse 7 then Doctor Wilson is the first response medic today."

"Yes Ma'am, understood, Colonel Mace specifically requested your attendance. He anticipated your reticence, Ma'am, and said to inform you of a Code 9."

"A Code 9?" Martha knew what that meant. "In Warehouse 7?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"There is a Code 9 actually in Warehouse 7?" She wanted to make sure she was entirely clear of the circumstances of her call to the warehouse. The young soldier nodded his affirmation. "Then please can you get on your radio and advise Colonel Mace that I request the Code 9 be escorted to the Autopsy Lab?" Martha turned and addressed Gerald without pressing the intercom. "He may be able to provide valuable insight into Subject 76584." Martha breathed a sigh of relief. She worried the organism on her autopsy table was so far removed from anything she'd encountered previously that she'd not be able to provide the Peruvian Field Office with the information they needed.

The soldier was on the radio through to Colonel Mace's team, which Martha assumed were over in Warehouse 7. The intercom wasn't pressed on either side so she couldn't hear what was being said and Private Coates had turned slightly, so she wasn't able to decipher anything from reading his lips. Private Coates eventually returned to talk through the grille into the autopsy lab.

"Colonel Mace advised that the Code 9 does not appear to be a straightforward."

"What does that mean?" Martha worried. "Let's just cut to the chase. We all know what a Code 9 is, so, is the Doctor here or not?"

"That is unknown, Ma'am."

"But there is a Code 9 in Warehouse 7?"

"Yes Ma'am. I was stationed in Warehouse 6 at the time of the incident."

"Incident?" Martha felt her stomach bubble with worry. Something wasn't right. Colonel Mace was responsible for pulling her off routine duties to complete the autopsy with strict instruction to all parties that she not be reassigned for the duration of the procedure, now he was pulling her off. "A full report on all you know, please, Private."

"Yes, Ma'am, at approximately 08.55 hours I was stationed at Warehouse 6 awaiting orders following morning parade. I was there with seven other members of my unit. We heard what sounded like strange engines straining in and out, and then there a crashing sound. On investigation we discovered a Police Box located in Warehouse 7. We believe, form our case studies, it to be the TARDIS and that it has crash landed."

"The TARDIS crashed?"

"There was a lot of noise Ma'am and a large hole in the warehouse roof and part of the rear wall has been demolished. The rest of my unit have been charged in making the area safe. On discovering the TARDIS we immediately contacted Sergeant Harcourt who liaised with Colonel Mace. Both attended and Colonel Mace has attempted to gain access to the TARDIS or to make contact with anyone inside but has been unable to do so. It was after failing to make contact that Colonel Mace ordered me to bring you directly to Warehouse 7."

"The TARDIS crashed through the roof and there is no sign of any occupants?"

"That is correct, Ma'am."

Martha started to take her protective clothing off as she moved toward the airlock separating the autopsy lab from the main changing areas. "Gerry?" No one would ever dare to question her professionalism by using first names with her staff. "Can you relocate Subject 76584 back into the chiller-drawer. If you could download my dictation to the main drive and encrypt it with level two medical coding I will pick it up from there later. Then, if I have not already returned, catch up with me at Warehouse 7 and just in case, bring the full field kit over as well."

"Yes, Doctor Jones," Gerald acknowledged and got to work as Martha entered the air lock and secured it behind her. She shimmied out of the overalls she'd been wearing for the autopsy, not bothering to redo the laces in her boots. She tucked them into her thick black boot socks. Once she got in the jeep she could sort them out.

"Why do you think he is here, Ma'am?" Private Coates escorted Martha to an open top jeep waiting to drive her across the extensive site to the warehouses.

"I don't know." Martha paused as she clambered up into the front seat of the jeep beside Private Coates who would drive her. "But, there are two possibilities that come to mind. Knowing the Doctor, as I do, had he been seeking company he would likely call into a freelance journalist called Sarah Jane Smith, had he been seeking assistance he would likely call into Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood. I can think of two reasons why he may have come to UNIT. The first is that he is aware UNIT have possession of Subject 76584 and either has information or feels he needs to take jurisdiction, or, secondly, that he is not visiting UNIT but has come to find me, and that concerns me most as his medical doctor."

"Do you think he may be sick?"

"The TARDIS has crashed through the roof and he's not come out. Yes, it concerns me he may be injured or sick." Martha was trying to think of other reasons why he may have turned up. She knew he'd not come to her for a social visit. Not initially. If he was there because of Subject 76584 why hadn't he come out of the TARDIS? Why hadn't he landed closer to the Autopsy Lab instead of across the other side of the base in Warehouse 7? His driving wasn't always the best, but for him to have crashed through the roof? Martha reached across the dashboard and flicked a switch that lit up blue lights in the grille to warn pedestrians and other vehicles they were exceeding the campus 10 mile an hour speed limit. "Put your foot down, Private."

"Yes Ma'am." Private Coates accelerated and Martha held onto the roll bar above the seats. It wasn't far to Warehouse 7, but he could tell the medical director was anxious. "You're friends with him, aren't you, Doctor Jones?"

"I like to think so," Martha confirmed. "I travelled with him for some time. He better bloody be alright, or I'll regenerate him."

They arrived at Warehouse 7 and Private Coates skidded to a stop outside the main entrance. Martha leapt out and ran into the warehouse having thought through as many potential scenarios as she could think of. All realistic ones led her to believe the Doctor needed her medical assistance.

The TARDIS wasn't facing the main doors of the warehouse but was at an angle. Colonel Mace was waiting to greet her, but he had two full units of soldiers surrounding the police box with their weapons drawn. There was no wonder the Doctor wasn't coming out with 24 guns pointed at him. It further highlighted her fears and proved he'd not come to UNIT unless called or there was an urgent need.

"Colonel Mace, instruct these men to lower their weapons." Martha was angered by the sight. She knew the Doctor would be and she knew Colonel Mace knew the Doctor would be. Whatever was going on they didn't need to point their guns at him.

"Doctor Jones." Colonel Mace saluted her on her arrival and she returned the gesture formally. "Once established it is there is no threat I will give that order, but since there has been no contact from within the TARDIS the nature of its business here remains unknown. I request your advice on how to proceed? We're unable to gain access."

"Stand down and put your guns away," Martha repeated. "I've got a key."

Martha felt quite sick. She knew she shouldn't and that she should be ready to jump into action. She was often called in to incidents, even as the Medical Director for UNIT she maintained her hands on doctoring as a regular member of the first response team, covering shifts in their triage centre, or taking in rounds and dealing directly with patients in the medical wings.

There was nothing on the outside of the TARDIS that would indicate she had been through any serious scrapes, but there was definitely a hole in the warehouse ceiling and Private Coates had not been exaggerating when he'd said part of the rear bricked wall had been brought down. It was a pile of rubble. The position of the TARDIS made it clear she had caused the damage. She could see lights within the TARDIS which was positive; she'd be more worried if she was dark.

Martha went right up to the door of the TARDIS as all but the two soldiers on point put their guns down. She accepted that was as far as UNIT were going to go until it was clear there was no threat. She knocked on the door. "Doctor?" She waited a moment but there was no response. "Doctor, it's Martha, are you in there?" She waited again and received nothing. "I've got my key, Doctor, so, I'm coming in."

Her TARDIS key had been kept on her personal bunch. Not because she ever thought she'd need it for the TARDIS, but because it had been a part of her perception filter as she travelled the Earth. She kept it near her to remind her how lucky they all were. Now she slid it into the lock on the TARDIS door hoping the Doctor hadn't suddenly got security conscious about all the human stragglers there were with keys to his ship and home. He hadn't and the door unlocked. Martha cautiously pushed it open.

It felt significantly cooler in the TARDIS than it normally would, so much so that her breath condensed into a billowing cloud. In contrast to the cold air she could smell burning. Not the sometimes pleasant smell of wood smoke, but a sharp acrid smell of singed electronics and melted plastic. It wasn't overpowering, it was faint, but it was pungent enough to be immediately noticeable.

"No one else is to follow me in here, except Private Sutherland when he arrives," Martha ordered the soldiers standing guard around the TARDIS. "Doctor? Are you in here?" Martha stepped into the TARDIS. She pulled the door to behind her so there were no prying eyes. A section of the console was damaged and hanging off. There were wires and some scorch marks that suggested it was the source of the smell. Although there was light in the TARDIS it was coming from the emergency lighting rather than the main rotor which suggested she had powered down to prevent further risk of fire.

It was fairly clear to see what had broken the console. There was a large heavy-duty metal ladder tipped up and lying over the console and wedged against the upper platform running round the edge of the flight deck. She looked up at the ceiling. Way up above the time rotor, close to 25 feet, above her head two access panels hung open with different wires hanging out.

"Martha?" The Doctor was on the floor, slumped against the bottom of one of the TARDIS corals. His voice sounded weak and distant.

"Oh, Doctor?" Martha didn't have to ask what he had been up to and if he was alright. She could see he wasn't. He was incredibly pale in contrast to crimson blood coating half of his face. It had dripped and run in streaks into his shirt. It was smeared over his cheek where he'd wiped it with his hand but he'd done nothing else to deal with the wound or stem the bleeding.

Martha went around to the other side of the console first and ducked down to check underneath it. She was relieved to find the first aid kit she had made him update and replenish while she had travelled with him was still hooked under the lip. She hoped he'd not used it and left it empty like the original one which had been rusted into place.

Martha clipped the first aid kit open as she went to him and knelt down beside him. "Hello." She looked him over. It looked like he'd been wearing his coat at some point, but had got his arms out of it. He was still sitting on it and it was ruffled up behind him a bit between him and the coral, and resting over him so he'd not made the effort to take it right off, just shrugged it off his shoulders as if he was too hot despite Martha's breath condensing on the air.

"Hi."

"Am I right to assume you started up there?" Martha pointed toward the open ceiling panels. She wanted him to answer the question even though it was fairly obvious. She wanted to make sure he remembered and that his speech was clear. He seemed quiet and subdued, but she could clearly see the wound on his head was significant. It was curved and full thickness. There was a lot of blood. It coated the hair on the left side of his head and was down his face and into his shirt. Under the sticky red mess she could see the left side of his face looked swollen around his eye and cheek. His eye was almost swollen shut and she suspected that under the blood he was rapidly developing a spectacular shiner.

"The ladder tipped up."

"You've taken a nasty knock to your head, Doctor." Martha got some dressings out ready. "Did you knock yourself out?"

"No."

"Do you remember everything leading up to and since the ladder tipping?"

"Yeah, I do."

"That is a good start." Martha smiled sympathetically as she snapped a pair of gloves on from out the kit on her belt. She carefully pulled some of his hair to the side. "It looks like the wound in your head has mostly stopped bleeding on its own. So, I'm going to cover it over. We can clean it and have a good poke around and make sure there isn't anything untoward going on when we get you over to the medical bay. You're going to need some stitches I'm afraid."

"I thought as much."

"Have you any symptoms of concussion?" Martha knew the Doctor knew what they were. She asked him the broad question and then she'd break it down and confirm each indicator one at a time to double check with him. If he did have a concussion there was a chance he would be shaken up and confused and not know what the symptoms were, so she wasn't just going to let him make the decision as to whether he was concussed or not. As she suspected he denied it. She was suspicious as to why he remained on the floor half out of and half tucked into his coat if he didn't.

"I don't have a concussion."

"Okay, good, so no visual disturbances?"

"None."

Martha got her penlight from her kit and clicked it on. "Look straight ahead for me, Doctor," Martha instructed. She checked his pupil response. It was clear, quick, and even. She clicked the light off. "Look at the end of the pen for me?" she instructed. "Follow it with your eyes." She moved it from left to right and then up and down. His left eye was swollen to the point of it being almost closed, but what she could see looked fine. "Have you got any nausea?"

"No."

"Okay, good. I am going to keep an eye on you to make sure nothing develops. I want you to tell me if anything starts to develop. Let me just cover cut over for you. You've hit your face as well, haven't you?"

"I hit my head and face on the side of the console."

"The TARDIS has taken quite a whack from the ladder?"

"Yeah, she struggled to get into the air. She's damaged too." The Doctor sounded concerned so Martha elected not to tell him that she'd crashed through a warehouse roof. He didn't bring it up so she didn't know if he knew how badly she'd landed. It didn't seem to have been as damaging to her as the way the Doctor had landed from the ladder.

"Let's cover the cut on your head and then clean some of the blood up and have a look at what is going on underneath," Martha suggested. "I have a fine young medical assistance going to catch me up in a few minutes and then we'll get you over to the medical unit." She fastened a dressing over the wound on his head as she talked to him. He didn't even flinch. It worried her because his demeanour and manner indicated he was in a lot of pain. She had seen him hurt and this was him being hurt, but if it had just been a cut to his head and a black eye she didn't see why he'd come to her. He'd be highly animated and complaining when it was something minor. That he was quiet and subdued suggested to her it was serious, and that told her it was not his head.

"What else do we have to deal with?" Martha didn't ask him if he was hurt anywhere else. She knew he was. She just didn't want to go prodding and poking him to find out. He'd fallen about twenty five feet, Time Lord or not, that was a fair distance. "You're going to have to tell me, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"So, come on, unless you want me to do top to tail poking? I know it must be bad for you to come here rather than deal with it yourself." She was terrified he wasn't telling her because he'd hurt his back and was too scared to admit it. Come to think of it he wasn't sitting in a particularly comfortable looking position.

"Where else are you injured?" Martha knelt beside him. The metal grate was harsh, but she knew the Doctor was in far greater discomfort than her criss-crossed knees. It seemed for a moment that the Doctor was just going to break and lose all his battles against the pain he was enduring as if not acknowledging whatever it was and not talking about it made it hurt less. She knew mind over matter was a powerful aspect of the Doctor's existence so it was possibly very close to the truth and telling her would make it hurt more. "Doctor?"

"My right leg…" the Doctor grimaced as he continued, "…it's broken."

"Okay." Martha tried not to audibly gulp.

"It's bad…"

"Let's have a look," Martha offered positively.

"I don't really want to look."

"Okay, I need to though. So you can look away for a moment, but it may not be as bad as you fear." The way he was sitting he was twisted onto his left hip and that made more sense if his right leg was causing him pain. His coat was tucked over the top of both his legs so she'd not immediately seen. She'd been drawn to the blood on his head and face as the immediate concern and had not taken in what looked increasingly like an unusual position for him to be sitting in. She went to pull the coat back, but the Doctor gasped.

"You can't touch it!" He sounded panicked as his voice hitched up a couple of notches.

"I'm just going to look for now, but, Doctor? If you have broken your leg…?"

"I have!"

"Then," Martha continued calmly in order to try to bring the Doctor's level of distress back down. "I am fairly sure you've not come here just to show me have you?" Martha instinctively took his hand. His grip was tight and she could feel the slightest tremble that was otherwise imperceptible. "I'm going to have to touch you at some point, Doctor, but I'm not going to do anything other than look just now."

"It hurts."

"When Gerald gets here he'll have my kit and I'll be able to give you some proper pain relief before we think about getting you over to the other side."

"Not morphine." The Doctor keened as his resolve broke slightly.

"No, I know. I always keep a good stock of Time Lord friendly drugs and I have some in my kit just in case. I never know if I'm going to need them." Martha carried on holding his hand and she used her other hand to carefully ease his coat tail out of his lap and reveal his right leg. "Okay." Martha swallowed. "I'm going to need them."


	2. Chapter 2

"Martha?" The Doctor sounded worried and in pain. He wasn't looking, but she guessed he knew. He had to know since he'd somehow got from where he'd landed to the point where he was leaning against the coral. How he had gone anywhere she didn't know, but he'd not landed from the ladder where he was sitting.

"It is alright, we'll sort you out," Martha assured him, but she wasn't sure where she'd begin. His right leg was a mess. His ankle was definitely broken and very dislocated with a high degree of rotation. She couldn't tell how far out his foot had twisted because there was a further rotation midway along his shin where his leg visibly bent. She couldn't see any blood soaking into his trousers so she hoped it wasn't, but there was definitely the risk of the break being open. She couldn't be entirely sure with the way he was laying, but she didn't think his knee was right either. It looked like his right leg had acted as an impact buffer.

"Do you remember how you landed, Doctor?" Martha tried to work out in her mind how his ankle had gone one way, his knee potentially the other and his leg had snapped in the middle.

"Yes," the Doctor squeaked. Martha diverted her attention from his leg back to him. His breathing rate increased like he was at a risk of going into a panic or medical shock. She didn't want either of them to become an issue. He was still clinging onto her hand, but she needed to get up. "Where are you going?!"

"Just to see how sensible you have been and whether you replaced the O2."

"I did."

"Good." Martha fetched the small cylinder of oxygen stored under the side of the console. There was a black case as well and she took that. It had a number of different attachments to enable different species to breathe additional oxygen. She selected the normal face mask and attached it.

"I don't want that."

"I know, so, you need to stay calm and relaxed or I'll be giving you it. I'm just getting it ready in case I decide you do need it. For now I want you to stay calm and take deep breaths." She knew he'd not want the oxygen, and putting it on before he actually needed it would accelerate him to a point where he did need it. "Tell me how you landed."

"I thought I was going to be okay," he whined then groaned. Martha took his hand again and he gripped it tightly enough to make her knuckles whiten.

"You're not, so what went wrong?"

"When the ladder started to tip I lost my balance, so, I dropped down to land on my feet."

"Okay, that is 25 feet, so a fair height to land safely from."

"I should have been okay."

"Why weren't you?"

"My right foot landed on a rung of the ladder," the Doctor advised. Martha glanced back to the ladder and saw it had narrow cylindrical rungs. He'd not have been able to land safely on that even if he did think he'd be able to land safely on his feet.

"I heard and felt something snap. My leg went between the rungs, but the ladder fell one way and slammed shut on my leg as I fell the other way. I hit my head on the console."

"Okay." Martha got the scissors out of the small kit from under the console. "How long ago did you fall?"

"Forty Eight minutes ago." The Doctor keened and then groaned as he lost his composure. Martha paused and took his hand again. She was amazed he wasn't screaming and was able to have a conversation when she'd not yet been able to give him any pain relief. She suspected the screaming was yet to come. The effort to remain calm had to be causing him to fatigue and the more tired he became the less able to deal with it he was going to become. She thought about the mechanism and impact of his injury. He'd fallen from height, with a direct and rotational force from the ladder. It was little wonder his leg was looking like it was in a mess.

"So we're not going to be hanging round too long I'm going to cut your trousers so I can have a proper look at how we'll splint you up when Gerald arrives." Martha doubted the Doctor relished the idea so she didn't give him a choice. "Before I do, have you any other injuries apart from your leg and your head?"

"No."

"Okay, good. Now, I'm not going to move your leg and I'll try not to touch it. I'm just going to carefully cut up your trouser leg so I can see what is going on," Martha assured him, then to distract him she asked a question. "So, what were you doing way up there anyway?"

"The ice vents were active and I couldn't shut them off remotely. I had to turn them off manually."

"Is that why it is cooler than usual?"

"It would have frozen solid within a couple of hours if I'd not turned them off."

"I take it they are off?" Martha confirmed with him.

"Yes."

"Good, because we don't want to be rushing anything if we don't have to." Martha started to carefully cut up his trouser leg from the bottom hem. She followed the seam as far as she could, but as his leg twisted so did the material of his trousers so she ended up just hacking them. He wasn't in a position to complain and he had plenty of suits the same so losing a pair of trousers was not his concern. The fabric was growing tight around his knee and Martha had to pull ever so slightly to safely get the scissors in.

"Aarrrggh… no don't, Martha, please?"

"Sorry, Doctor." Martha hated to hear him sound like he was pleading with her and in distress, but she had no choice but to continue. "That's almost it," she assured him as she gained enough fabric to get past his knee without risking gouging him with the scissors. She quickly cut right up to his groin so she could open his trouser leg up to see how badly injured he was. "We're done."

As she feared his knee was obviously badly dislocated, it was not just the patella though that was way out too. His whole knee joint was also laterally and posteriorly displaced, so his tibia had been forced behind his femur, twisted and wedged so his knee was bent to just under 90 degrees. There were bony bulges where there shouldn't be. It had to be pure agony. Even if there weren't any fractures associated with the injury to his knee the soft tissue damage to the supporting ligaments was likely total. It looked like his knee had been forced backward until it popped and then twisted. The skin was stretched with the deformity in the joint and there was already significant swelling. His knee injury alone caused Martha concern.

There was a visible step in the front of his shin. It was clear to see the tibia and fibula were both snapped through. There was a rotation and his leg was angled at the fracture. Martha suspected it was spiral. She could see it was highly unstable. The weight of his foot was dragging his lower leg down at the break, but he couldn't lie with his leg flat along the ground because of the angle his wedged knee. Martha knew if she lifted his ankle then his leg would bend at the breaks and not where it was supposed to. Luckily the skin did remain intact, but it was a nasty unstable break, though not something she worried about in terms of being able to fix with surgery and time.

The Doctor was wearing his Converse as usual. The laces hadn't been thread right the way to the top, but it wouldn't have made a difference anyway. The fabric of his Chucks was twisted and the laces were under a diagonal strain as his foot was not in line with the rest of his leg. Martha carefully slid her scissors into the laces. She started at the bottom rather than at the top, knowing there was some support provided by the tension in his shoe. When she cut through the last couple of sections of the lace the trainer opened. His foot shifted slightly. The Doctor bellowed and arched backward hitting the back of his head on the coral he was leaning against.

"I'm so sorry, Doctor. I need to take your shoe and sock off to check your circulation."

"No?" the Doctor whimpered. He moaned with the pain he was in as fatigue driven cracks in his bold resolve caused his calm exterior to disintegrate. The subtle tremble Martha felt earlier when taking his hand had grown to a visible shaking.

"Alright." Martha took the oxygen cylinder she left ready for when he needed it. She put the mask in his hand rather than slide it over his nose and mouth. "It's just oxygen, Doctor. I know you don't like the mask so I'm not going to fasten it, but you need to hold it and take deep breaths. It will help, but I do have to take your shoe off. I need to make sure you've got a good blood flow down into your foot."

"I know…"

"Then I need to take your shoe and sock off. Breathe the oxygen," Martha instructed. She waited while the Doctor took a couple of breaths of the oxygen. "I'll be as gentle as I can be." She eased his shoe wider where the laces had all been cut and then she very carefully slid it down from his heel. "Breathe the oxygen." Martha paused. She waited for the Doctor to take in a breath and then she lifted the shoe from his foot. The Doctor cried into the oxygen mask.

Martha cut his boot sock off rather than pull it off to limit the amount she hurt him. She'd not moved his leg at all. The way his ankle twisted meant his foot was off the ground. Any hope it was just a dislocation was dashed as soon as his sock was off. She could see the fracture line through the tibia at his ankle. His foot was twisted round so far the skin was tight and white over the break at the side. It was at a greater risk of becoming open than the unstable fracture of his mid-shin. The skin was rucked and creased around the other side of his ankle. It was gruesome.

Had the Doctor been lying on his back and his leg had been straight then sole of his foot would have been pointing to the right and his toes to the left. The skin of his foot was blanched with dark dusky pink blotches indicating that somewhere in his ankle the circulation was compromised. As soon as Gerald got there and she could give him some pain relief she was going to have to get his foot into a better position to try and restore the blood flow and release the pressure on the skin. She feared any movement would cause the skin to split and the bone end would protrude through.

It made it more important for the Doctor to carry on breathing the oxygen so what little blood might be circulating beyond the breaks in his ankle was oxygen rich. She looked up to the Doctor. He was moaning slightly, but he wasn't making an effort to breathe the oxygen anymore.

"You need to breathe the oxygen, Doctor."

The Doctor seemed to reel with dizziness. Martha didn't know if it was going to be due to the incredible pain he had to be in, or because he'd hit his head. She didn't want him to pass out until she knew one way or another. He'd let go of the mask for the oxygen so she knelt up and hooked it over his nose and mouth.

"Doctor?" Martha tried to get his attention. "Hey, are you with me?" she asked him. He groaned into the mask. "Look at me, Doctor?" she insisted. She took her jacket off and rolled it into a pad and put that under his ankle to provide it some support to try to take the weight of his foot off the skin and buckled joint. The slight movement caused the Doctor to cry out and he seemed to come back round. He went to take the oxygen mask off.

"You really need to leave that, this time, Doctor." Martha slipped it back over his nose and mouth. "Doctor?" She rubbed his shoulder and got her penlight out. She checked his pupil response and he blinked away from her. "Alright?" she asked him. He was shaking violently and sweat was beginning to bead on his clammy brow. "Look at me, Doctor?" She cupped his face and got him to focus. "I think we need to get you lying down flat, don't we, before you faint." Martha recognised basic initial symptoms of medical shock and she didn't want it to develop further.

"No, please… it hurts."

"I'm so sorry." Martha caressed his cheek. "It is going to hurt, but you can lie down and I'm going to find out how long Gerald is going to be. I expected him to be here a while ago."

"It's bad… isn't it?" the Doctor moaned.

"Yeah, it's quite bad." Martha ran her hand over his head. "It's not open and we'll put you back together. It looks worse than it is because you've got three points of conflicting injury. You've injured your ankle and your knee and broken your leg between the two. When Gerald gets here I've a camera in my kit and we'll take some photos of how it all looks so we can see how best to sort you out once we've got the scans and films we need. Once you're fixed up it won't be as painful, but you'll be out of action for a while."

"How long?"

"Oh, Doctor? You know I can't answer that yet. There's no way of knowing until we have a proper look at what the damage is on X-rays and MRI, but?" Martha knelt up and looked through the ladder towards the door as it started to open. She saw her junior medic nervously stepping in through the door. "Here is Gerald with my kit and your pain relief," she advised the Doctor. "Oh, and Colonel Mace."

"Not him?" the Doctor moaned quietly.

"Oi, now be nice." Martha caressed his head. "You're not exactly in a position to argue with him."

"I'll still try."


	3. Chapter 3

"Doctor Jones." Colonel Mace sounded frustrated and annoyed as his valuable time was being taken up and he'd been standing outside waiting for instruction when a junior medic had turned up and started to go straight in. "A full report if you…" He strode around toward the other side of the flight deck to where Martha had raised her hand to indicate her position but had not stood up to salute. When Colonel Mace got far enough round to see the Doctor he audibly gulped. "Um… as you were, Doctor Jones."

"He's a bit squeamish," Martha whispered and winked at the Time Lord as she held his hand. Gerald put her large medical kit down and then stepped to the side in order to utilise his radio. "As you can see, Colonel, the Doctor has suffered an injury. I am going to arrange for his transfer to the medical bay and treat him there. I trust our facilities will be made fully available to support and aid him in his recovery."

"Whatever you need," Colonel Mace confirmed. "Doctor." His hand was halfway up to a salute before he thought better of it under the circumstances and just nodded to the stricken Time Lord.

"Hello again."

"Yes, quite." The Colonel looked at the Doctor's leg and the blood coating the side of his head and face. It made him feel ill.

"Doctor Jones?" Gerald interrupted. "I have asked control to send the base ambulance. They confirm they'll be here within five minutes."

"Thank you. Good." Martha would have called them over within a few minutes no she had the kit, so it was good her junior medic was thinking on his feet. They were going to need it to move the Doctor across the base to the medical units. It would be a smoother ride than him going in the back of the jeep she had ridden over on. "Doctor?" She made sure the Time Lord was still listening to her. "This is Private Gerald Sutherland. He's one of my best medics. Gerald, this is the Doctor."

"Pleased to meet you, Doctor. I couldn't believe it when I found out we had a code 9 here. How did you hurt yourself?"

"He's one of your best?" the Doctor asked Martha trying to be cheeky but just coming across as worn out. Martha smiled at him giving him bonus points for the effort.

"He is very good, though, obviously not that observant." She knew what the Doctor meant and she pointed toward the ladder Gerald had to duck under to round the console.

"Oh." Gerald grinned. "You were playing football?" he stated knowledgably. Martha laughed. The Doctor chuckled but then groaned deeply, grimacing and reeling.

"Right, Doctor, let's get you some pain relief now the kit is here." Martha couldn't stand around talking and got what she needed out of her kit. "I've Bladamine here. I know you can have it. The dose I will give you is probably going to be enough to make you feel a bit woozy," Martha warned him. "Let's see how we're doing for veins." He still had his jacket on so rather than worry about taking it off and cutting it up she sought one in the back of his hand. "We'll re-site this when you're more comfortable." There was a visible vein in the back of his hand. "You're going to feel a sharp scratch, Doctor." Martha slid a fairly wide canola into the vein in the back of his hand and taped it in place so that when she needed to top up any drugs or add anything else it was all there for him and she didn't have to keep on pricking him with needles.

"What is that?" Gerald asked Martha as she got the phial of drugs out of a black case secreted into the back internal pocket of her kit and drew some up into a syringe.

"It's bladamine. It's an off world analgesic that is safe for most non-human patients including Time Lords. We've used this before so we know it's good, don't we, Doctor?" Martha pushed the drug in through the canola to give the Doctor a dose. "There we go. Let's give that a moment to work. Then we're going to get you lying nice and flat." Martha rubbed the Doctor's shoulder. His hand slowly dropped down into his lap as his eyelids started to get heavy as the drugs started to take effect.

"Colonel, would you be able to give us a hand?" Martha asked Colonel Mace who was still standing in the TARDIS. "We need to move him away from the pillar so he can lie down. Are the paramedics here yet? We could do with another couple of pairs of hands if possible. Doctor?" Martha rubbed his shoulder. He mumbled something. "Because you've fallen from a height and whacked your head, and because it is quite possible that the pain in your leg is distracting you from other injury I am going to be cautious and put a neck collar on you before we lie you down, okay?" Martha checked with him.

"Yerff," the Doctor slurred with the effect of the drugs. Martha carefully fixed a rigid collar around the Doctor's neck. She trusted that he'd not hurt anything else, but she didn't want to take a risk with his neck when he'd banged his head.

"The paramedics aren't here yet." Gerald came back from the door of the TARDIS. "They are going to be shown straight in when they arrive."

"Alright, we'll manage. We need to get him lying down now he's had the Bladamine," Martha commented. The Time Lord looked to be half asleep. "Gerald, I need you to lift him just off the floor and then shift him about a foot to the right so he's away from the pillar. Colonel, if you can take care of his left leg and make sure it doesn't get in the way as we move? I'll take care of his injured one. We will go on the count of three. We will be lifting him an inch and then shifting over away from the pillar and then gently down again. Gerald you'll need to ease him down to lie flat." Martha gave the instructions. "Is everyone clear on what they need to do?"

"Yes Doctor," Colonel Mace confirmed.

"Yes Ma'am." Gerald got into position and hooked his arms under the Doctor's from behind so he could lift and support him, as Colonel Mace got ready just to ease his left leg over and Martha prepared to take care of his injured leg.

"Doctor, you just need to relax. Let us do the moving," Martha instructed. "All ready? We will go after three." Colonel Mace and Gerald nodded that they were. "One, two, three, and lift." Martha held and supported his leg the best she could as they moved him over. Even with Bladamine in his system the Doctor roared in agony. "Just relax, Doctor. Lie back now. Go on, lie down," she encouraged as Gerald eased him down to lie flat on the ground. He cried out as lying changed the position of his leg slightly. Martha had to support his leg off the ground as his knee was bent and twisted.

Gerald rubbed his shoulder and tried to calm him, but then he went and relieved Martha and took over supporting his leg until Martha grabbed the Doctor's coat and managed to pack that into the gap left by his deformed knee. The Doctor screamed in agony as the fracture in the middle of his leg visibly shifted slightly. Martha winced on his behalf; they definitely needed stronger pain relief before they could splinted him. Colonel Mace moved so far out the way so that even if he looked he couldn't see his leg. Martha removed her jacket and rolled it to place under the Doctor's head. She then took the Doctor's hand as the drugs took him back into the daze. "Well done. Now just relax."

"Let's see how we're doing." Martha clipped a monitor from her kit onto the Doctor's finger. It had originated on the TARDIS so she could calibrate it easily to measure the Time Lord's unique vital signs without it telling her that he was dead or simply failing to read anything and generating an ERR message. His hearts were beating rapidly which was no surprise considering what he was going through. His blood oxygen levels were reduced. "Take deep breaths," Martha encouraged. She turned the oxygen level up from 50% to 70% to see if it would help him.

"There is Entonox in the kit." Gerald went to get it out.

"It's not something he can use." Martha advised. "Bladamine is better for him. We can give him ketamine on top when the paramedics arrive. I don't want to do that without additional assistance if we need to intubate him while he's out. We shouldn't, but I'm not going to risk it." Martha explained to the young medic.

The Doctor moaned quietly even with the drugs. "It's not going to be long now, Doctor." Martha knew he was getting close to the edge of his tolerance. Things would get much worse when he passed it if they'd not got him to a point where he was more comfortable. She needed to press on but she couldn't do anything until he had more substantial pain relief and she had more equipment available in case he declined further into medical shock. "I need you to tell me if you can feel me touching you," Martha suggested.

"No touching," the Doctor slurred.

"We need to check." Martha ran her finger along the inside of his knee. She didn't apply any pressure. She literally touched the taut skin. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes."

"Okay, good. What about this?" She worked down his leg checking each of the main nerve quadrants until she ran her finger along the bridge of his misaligned ankle and foot. He could feel everything which meant no major nerves were affected. He was definitely losing the blood flow to his foot, the red blotches were starting to join together. They needed to straighten him out enough to get the blood flowing before they splinted him up and transferred him to the medical unit. While they waited Martha got Gerald to take photographs of the Doctor's leg from every angle so they could study the natural lines of the very unnatural deformities once back at the medical centre.

As Martha had been taken off the roster to conduct the autopsy on Subject 76584 before she'd even arrived into her office that morning she didn't know who'd been allocated to the on site ambulance. They had two teams of paramedics. One team would be on the base ambulance and the other would be available to the UNIT helicopter for other trauma calls. She was relieved when the double act of Stan Orton and Nasser Ahmed came in. They were more experienced and would not bat an eyelid about being inside the TARDIS or treating an alien.

"We're over here." Martha beckoned the paramedics round to the other side of the console. "Right, Doctor? Now the cavalry are here. I am going to give you a dose of ketamine." Martha advised. "We need to be getting straight on with this, so, Stan, can you monitor his vitals and his breathing, please? We need to give him ketamine and get the blood flowing back to his foot. Then we'll see about splinting him for transport back to medical." Martha advised the two paramedics.

"You've made a bit of a mess of that leg of yours there, son," Stan advised the Doctor as he took position to support him while the others worked on him.

"You don't need me in here, do you? Doctor Jones?" Colonel Mace sounded like he was pleading to be dismissed.

"No, Sir, thank you for your assistance."

"I shall check in with you for a further report once he has been relocated."

"Yes Sir." Martha was pleased the Colonel was going. She didn't want to have to deal with a fainted base commander while reducing the Time Lord's injuries.

"Doctor?" Martha rubbed his shoulder so the Time Lord half focused on her. "I am going to give you some ketamine now." Martha pushed the drug into his canola. "There is a drug mixed in to stop you feeling sick. Both are fine. You've used them before. It's not going to stop it hurting, but it will make it easier. Just go with it. You're going to feel very dopey and sleepy." Martha rubbed his arm as the Doctor's eyes closed.

"I've got him," Stan confirmed to Martha as he switched the oxygen mask over to one which had a small green ball in the valve so he could measure the depth of the Doctor's breathing as the ketamine could cause a depression in his respiration if given too much. It had a balloon ready attached to it, so if he did feel like the Doctor's respiration needed support he could assist him.

"He burns through drugs at an amazing speed, so now we need to move quickly," Martha explained. "Okay, gentlemen, I want a long leg splint on him if at all possible. First priority is to reduce his ankle at least enough to restore some blood flow." She hadn't even tried to find any pulses in his foot or ankle. It was clear from the discoloration of his foot there wasn't going to be one. "Stan, how is his breathing there?"

"Nice and slow and even," Stan confirmed. "He's on 85% oxygen so we've still got some leeway. We're doing fine for now."

"Okay, let's do this," Martha instructed. "We need more hands than usual for this because of the mid shaft fractures. Nasser, I need you to lift his leg. Please be cautious of his knee. Go above it please. Gerald you need to support his lower leg and be mindful of the shaft fractures, anchor him below them but support him above. Some movement mid-shaft will be unavoidable but we can't allow too much. I do not want to be dealing with open fractures on a Time Lord," Martha warned. "Into positions, please."

They lifted the Doctor's leg between them and the Time Lord let out a low drugged moan of discontent. Stan looked after him. He talked to him and rubbed his shoulder as he held the mask over his nose and mouth monitoring his breathing.

"No, no, no…" the Doctor slurred as Martha gripped his foot in one hand from above it and as close to his ankle as she could get. With her other hand she gripped his heel. She wriggled it to see how much and how easily it was going to move. The Doctor groaned. "No… no don't."

"You're doing great, lad," Stan assured him as Martha applied a tension to his ankle. She did her best to ignore the mournful wail that rose from the Doctor's throat. It increased in pitch as she increased the amount of traction she applied to his smashed ankle to try and pull his foot back to the end of his leg rather than where it sat over to the side of it. She prayed ketamine would work the same way on him as a human and he'd have no recollection of what she was doing because she knew it was torture.

"Make sure you're bracing, Gerald." Martha changed her grip on the Doctor's foot as it wasn't moving easily. She didn't want to just yank in case the fractures in the middle of his leg were stressed enough to open and introduce a huge infection risk and complications.

"I've got him braced," Gerald confirmed. He used his forearms along the sides of the Doctor's leg to hold him straight as he gripped him below the fractures. He anchored him as Martha twisted on his ankle. She pulled and twisted his foot back round. It came back round to the end of his foot, but it was still rotated. She changed her grip again and untwisted is ankle. It slid back into a better position, but it wasn't ideal. The skin started to pink up again almost immediately and that was her main concern. When she let go of his foot and ankle it slipped further back out of line, but it was not compromising the blood flow and she could feel a strengthening pulse. For a temporary reduction it was good enough to get him across to the medical unit without risking damage to his foot.

"Doctor Jones, do you want to reduce his knee while we're here?" Yasser asked. "We'll not get the standard splint on him like this, Ma'am."

"How's he coping, Stan?" Martha was aware of how quickly the Doctor metabolised drugs.

"We're doing brilliantly at this end, aren't we, lad?" Stan rubbed the Doctor's shoulder. When there was no direct pain being applied to him the Doctor relaxed into a semiconscious drugged peace. He didn't care what they were talking about and he didn't care about what was going on until they started to touch him again and then his only concern was the pain.

"Okay, let's see if his knee will go," Martha agreed. If they could get his leg closer to straight it would be safer to splint him. Martha put her hands on either side of the Doctor's knee and felt around it. It was very swollen, but it was easy to feel the joint was dislocated fully. As she tried to lift his knee to see if there was any movement at all available the Doctor cried out.

"Keep his leg up," Martha instructed and Yasser elevated his leg from the thigh. Gerald continued to try maintain the lower leg fractures as Martha held his leg below his knee. She pulled on his leg so it was as straight as it could be, then she tried to get it to bend so it would slide back together. The Doctor screamed despite the drugs. Martha pulled on his leg and tried again. It didn't want to go at all.

"I'll try once more and then we'll leave it." Martha shifted her position so her knee was underneath the Doctor's. She tried to use her knee as a pivot to stretch the dislocated joint apart to allow the head of the tibia to move the femur so it would slide back together. The Doctor wailed and shouted as Martha extended his knee over her own and then angled it down. It shifted but didn't come together, but she wasn't going to continue due to the grinding of bone she could hear and feel. She was risking further damage if she continued and it was hurting too much for too long. She eased his leg down into the long splint Yasser opened out. It was just going to be possible to close it around his misshapen leg. It was all they needed, if they could close it they could inflate it and the internal air cells would hold him secure for transport.

"Okay, let him go." Martha instructed so no one had any hands on his leg to support the position it was in. It would be more comfortable splinted in the natural position it took even if it was medically worse than one they held. His leg was had almost been forced into a strange zed corkscrew twist. His knee remained rotated one way, his leg breaks were twisted and angled the same way, but then his ankle and foot were rotated the opposite way. Nothing was in the best position, but his foot was pink and the blotchiness had faded. Martha checked the capillary refill in all of his toes and found two pulses in his foot. She marked them with felt tip crosses before closing the splint. As long as he was immobilised they could get the scans and allow him to rest a little as they decided how best to fix him.

The Doctor moaned while they fastened the splint over his leg and then wailed as it was inflated to provide the support required. It was the last horribly painful thing he'd have to endure for the time being.

"That is it, now, Doctor. Just relax." Martha caressed his head. They got him onto a flat board gurney and wheeled him out of the TARDIS and into the ambulance. Martha went in the back with him, leaving her kit in the TARDIS and closing the door so that it locked behind her. She could come back and fetch it later.

Once before Martha had been required to give the Doctor painkilling drugs and assist him, though only because she was on board the TARDIS. She was there and almost fully qualified, but the Time Lord still wanted to just sort himself out after ice skating on the mineral lakes of Kur-ha had ended up with him getting a nasty wrist injury they'd initially feared was seriously fractured. She knew he got through the drugs quickly regardless of the dose which made keeping him comfortable hard. By the time they had crossed the unit base and he was in medical he was coming round from the ketamine.

He cried out as they transferred him onto a medical bay bed. As he lay on the bed, dopey and drugged. He crossed his arms over his head as if trying to block everything out. Martha tried to make him comfortable but he was in the difficult place between drugged oblivion and unassisted agony. She couldn't safely top up his drugs yet, but they weren't good enough to keep him under. He'd been like that for a couple of days with his wrist and it had ended up exhausting him. She feared it was going to be months now and that it could be too much for him to endure.

"Doctor? You can just relax for a while now. We're going to get the scanners in and see what we need to do. I've restored the blood flow back to your foot so we're not critical and now you're splinted we can take our time a little," she told him. "Okay?" Martha took his hand and pulled it away from his face so she could see him. He had pained tears in his eyes and she caressed his cheek. "It will be okay."

"I'm getting the East wing cleared so we can control who enters and you won't be disturbed while you're here. You're going to need surgery, Doctor, but it probably isn't going to be possible for a couple of days. You're very swollen and you're going to swell more so we can't operate unless absolutely necessary as we're not going to be able to safely close," she explained. The Doctor looked at her with a mournful pained, drugged, gaze. "Have you got any questions?"

"Are you going to cut my foot off?"

"No."

"If you do, I'll regenerate."

"I'm not going to."

"Maybe I should regenerate?"

"Doctor." Martha took his hand in both of hers. "You're not going to lose your foot. Your injury is serious and I am not going to deny you've done some significant damage, but I've seen nothing so far I don't think will heal with treatment and time. It looks worse because you've sustained three points of injury. If you'd just hurt your ankle, or just broken your leg, or just hurt your knee it wouldn't be as bad, but we'll treat them as individual injuries. I need to do the scans and see what is going on and then we can discuss the best way forward, but, regeneration isn't going to be necessary, okay?"

"Okay."

"We need to get your jacket off so you can rest more easily. Do you want me just to do it with scissors or are you going to object?"

"Object."

"I thought you might. I'm going to need you to sit forward a little then with Gerald." Martha waved the young medic in. They got his jacket off and his shirt, tie, and T-shirt. They were covered in blood from his head anyway. Martha knew he'd not be happy wearing a gown so she asked Gerald to go through into their store rather than the patient store and get him one of the white T-shirts they wore under their scrubs. While Gerald did that Martha cut the remaining side of his trousers off and then started to sponge some of the blood from his chest and his neck where it had soaked through his clothing and marked his skin.

"Your head certainly bled a lot. I'll let Gerald stitch it up when I've got your X-rays done. He's got good needlework skills. I know you said there isn't anything wrong, but I'm going to run scans of your head as well, just to be sure there is something in there. Okay?" She teased the Doctor. He smiled weakly but was in too much pain and too tired to object.

They got him sorted in his T-shirt and Martha put a more secure canola into a vein in his arm rather than his hand. She taped it and then bandaged around it so it was protected. "I'm going to put some fluids up so we can run constant pain relief in or you're pain levels are going to be up and down every twenty minutes and we're not going to manage like that, are we?"

"No."

"What rate of Bladamine do you want to start? We can take it up or drop it down as you settle. So, let's aim for something in the middle of your tolerance so we have room to go either way?" Martha suggested.

"2ml an hour might be okay."

"I think it will be a bit low, but we can start there if you want. If you need more we'll take it up. I'll get that sorted and then we'll get your scans done. UNIT have a full orthopaedic surgical team based out of this medical unit. They are just back from their last trip overseas so we'll be able to sort you out without issue," Martha explained as she put the drip up for him. She wanted to get some information from the Doctor before the drugs went up again or before it became too painful for him to think straight so while the fluid was up she'd not put anything in the drug reservoir yet. "Am I right in assuming when we use fixation to stabilise your fractures anything we put in we'll have to be able to take out once you're healed?"

"Nothing can stay in."

"Alright, we will bear that in mind when we design your treatment. Is there anything else we need to know about your bone structure or joints that make it worse is harder or just different from a human?" Martha asked the Doctor. "Will you heal quicker or more slowly than we are used to? Is there anything we need to be aware of you can think of that would differ between the ways we need to treat you and the ways we would treat a human with analogous injuries?"

"Not really, just that…" the Doctor started, but then he winced and grimaced as the pain rose above his tolerance level for no apparent reason at all. It had done while he was in the TARDIS. He'd been barely managing it and then he'd be reeling as it consumed him.

"I am sorry." Martha clutched his hand as he moaned then cried out. "What a time to be asking you questions." She caressed his head. "Just try to relax." Martha wasn't going to hold back his drugs even if she did need to ask him. She prepared the Bladamine to provide 2ml an hour and checked the flow rate as she put it into the drip.

"Martha?" the Doctor whimpered. "It hurts."

"Let the drugs do their work and relax." Martha rubbed his shoulder. "You were going to say something about the differences?" She felt bad for pushing but maybe it would be a distraction too.

"I'll heal quicker," the Doctor advised. "Only by about 20% quicker with fractures; they heal relatively slowly. My bones are denser so will be harder to drill if using internal fixation."

"I think we're going to have to," Martha commented. "We can make sure we've got spare drill bits and things. Do denser bones make them stronger?"

"They're supposed to be." He grimaced and groaned and Martha took his hand. "I'm not supposed to break easily."

"I am fairly sure you're not supposed to jump 25 feet off a ladder either."

"I didn't jump."

"No," Martha accepted and caressed his head. She still needed to get Gerald to sort out the wound on his head as well and she wanted to do a full check for other injuries. She was reasonably content it was only his leg had been seriously injured and it had acted as a literal crumple zone and absorbed the impact. 25 feet was a long way to fall, even if he did think he would land safely on his feet. She didn't think the Doctor would appreciate being told that she thought it could be a lot worse, so, she refrained.


	4. Chapter 4

Martha put a call out to the orthopaedic specialist on site. She was relieved to see it was their most experienced specialist James Lloyd on duty. It was quarter past eleven so he'd be in the morning clinic. She put the call out to meet her in the assessment room to give him time to finish with his current patient. She knew there were a couple of UNIT staff receiving on going orthopaedic treatments so they'd be seeing James.

Assisted by Gerald and a trauma unit nurse, Anita, Martha took various scans of the Doctor's leg. She didn't move him to take any of them. The system was portable and the beds were designed so if they did need to take posterior films it could be achieved through the bed. She took X-rays and soft tissue images with the most advanced medical equipment installed in the UNIT base.

"I've got all the images I need for now, Doctor." Martha got Gerald to wheel the bulky machine out of the room again. "I'm going to take them to the assessment room and discuss them with our resident orthopaedic surgeon. Do you want us to come back and involve you fully in the discussion?" Martha didn't know how much the Doctor would want to be involved. When he'd dislocated his wrist and she'd been checking for fractures he'd been keen to share his experiences and what he thought in valuable consultation. She hoped he'd be able to do the same again.

The Doctor was in a lot of pain and he was exhausted. Gerald positioned the bed so he was sitting slightly rather than completely flat. It was comfortable, but he'd never felt anything like the pain radiating in harsh waves from his leg. He knew it was bad because he'd felt it and seen it. He didn't want to have to think about anything else to do with it. He shook his head in response to Martha's question.

"I'll go and discuss it with James we'll see how you feel, alright?" Martha could tell the Doctor was worn out. It wasn't over yet. They needed to reduce his injuries further to cast him, or, they'd risk taking him straight into surgery depending on what the scans revealed. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah."

"Once we have decided what the next stage is we'll see about sorting you a cup of tea." Martha smiled. "While I am off discussing how we're going to put your leg back together I'm going to get Gerald to clean your head wound and stitch it back together. He may put some staples in it for you."

"Okay."

"I'm just going to be along the corridor, Doctor," Martha assured him. "If you want anything then ask Gerald. If he can't do it then he can come and get me. All you should be doing is resting and trying to relax. I know it hurts, but the drugs should help and we'll get you sorted as quickly as we can."

"I know you will…" The Doctor made a deliberate eye contact and regarded Martha. "That's why I came."

Martha smiled sympathetically at the Doctor. She was surprised to get the acknowledgement from him, but she knew he had to be feeling vulnerable, shocked, and unnerved. Each of the injuries he had was serious in its own right. His knee would need stabilisation, ligament reconstruction, and immobilisation for a period of time followed by intensive physiotherapy. His mid-shaft fractures would need fixating and then immobilising without any weight bearing for a period of time and then strengthening up. His ankle needed surgery and would need stabilisation and possibly some ligament repair and then physiotherapy.

The three injuries in themselves were serious, but if a patient had come in with one of them in isolation they'd be treated and taken care of and put into a program of support and rehabilitation. They'd be assured of a full recovery in 9 out of 10 cases. The Doctor had the three injuries together, so it looked like there was an impossible mountain of fractures, dislocations, and soft tissue injury in a gruesome distorted mess, but when broken down there were three serious but hopefully fixable injuries.

Martha could tell the Doctor was still struggling with the pain he was in while receiving Bladamine and she knew he was scared. He'd not bounced and she wasn't sure if he'd ever crashed. He wasn't chattering away, trying to give her hints and advice on what to do, and was just lying on his back quietly subdued. It made her feel even more responsible for his well-being and was an indication of how badly he'd been shocked and how difficult he was finding it. He'd fallen 25 feet off a ladder, shattered his leg, and cut his head open. What Martha found most upsetting was that he'd been on his own and it had been almost fifty minutes between him falling and them getting to him.

Gerald came into the room with a trolley containing all he needed to treat the Doctor's head wound. His still had some dried blood crusting in his hair, in his ear, and over his face. Martha had wiped some out the way, but hadn't cleaned him fully, just enough to reveal the TARDIS blue bruising colouring the left side of his face. They had taken some scans and X-rays so Martha wasn't going to prod him about, but she did worry he may have cracked his cheekbone based on the swelling and bruising. She'd check at the same time as she reviewed the images of his leg.

"Gerald, can I have the camera please?" Martha took the camera from the junior medic. "Right, Doctor?" She rubbed his shoulder to get his attention. "I won't be too long. Be nice to Gerald. Once you're more settled he'll be the one making the most tea."

"Okay." The Doctor gave her a tired half smile aware she was trying to keep his spirits up. He didn't much care about spirits he wanted his leg to stop hurting. He made the mistake of looking down at the splint. He'd thought it would be okay, but even with the splint on he was lying on his back but his knee was rotated to the left and his toes were still pointing down and to the right.

Martha went down to the assessment room. There were several big screens and boards up in the room and the information from the scanners could be instantly downloaded and displayed. She downloaded the photographs Gerald had taken in the TARDIS and she selected one that showed all three injuries in the position she'd found him in. She put it up on the first screen. When looking at it she had to actually concentrate to determine which end was his knee and which was his ankle as it wasn't immediately recognisable. She put a second photograph alongside which showed his leg from another angle and gave a clear indication of the seriousness of what they were dealing with the deep step down from femur to tibia where he should have a knee joint, then a bend in the shaft of his leg.

On the second board she transferred the films of his knee. On the third board she showed those of the mid-shaft fractures, and then on the fourth she put the images of his ankle and foot up. On the fifth board she put up the scans of his skull and facial bones just in case there was anything they had to deal with. She studied them first. Pleased to see there was nothing. No cracks to his skull and no damage to his facial bones. All the damage done whacking his head and face was soft tissue cuts and bruising. She took those images down and put some additional ones of his leg up.

Martha wasn't entirely sure where to start, but his knee had been scanned first so that was what she looked at first. It was still fully dislocated even though she'd got it closer to splint him. It was clear why it had been hard to get to go back. There was a tibial plateau fracture, it involved the lateral condoyle and it was a highly displaced oblique fracture right up into his knee so half of the supporting head of his tibia had come away.

It would only be possible to fully reduce surgically, but they were going to have to get him closer to let the swelling go down. His patella also had a fracture and Martha was highly disappointed to see a hairline crack through the distal head of his femur. The upper neck of his fibular had sheared away with the rotational force applied to his knee and the joint was such that the tibia still sat underneath and behind the femur. She feared that he might have to go into traction to protect his knee until surgery but that was going to be contraindicated by his other injuries. It was going to be a tough call to make.

The soft tissue scans showed what Martha already knew. Both sets of his medial and cruciate ligaments in his knee were ruptured and detached. He would need two or three surgeries on his knee to repair the damage and reconstruct the joint so he could heal. There was a lot of blood and fluid actually in the space that should be occupied by the displaced head of his tibia and she thought that even if they could not put him in traction they might have to put a drain in to make him more comfortable until he could have surgery.

Martha did some work on the computer and an outline appeared around his femur and his tibia on the X-ray of his knee. Martha then took and electronic pen and drew the lines of the fractures in red. She hit a button on the keyboard and they got set into the screen. She used her hand to re-orientate the bones until they were in the right positions. Using the computer to see which way they might go back in before they had to try it on the Doctor.

Martha got a blue electronic pen and she drew some fixing lines through the fracture on the board as they were likely the screws they'd have to put in to hold it while it healed. They'd have to wire his patella as well and plate the fibula. They would not have to do anything to stabilise the crack in his femur but give it time to heal.

Martha moved onto the second board which showed the mid-shaft fractures on his leg. They weren't in line. They were both spiral fractures caused by a violent rotational force exceeding the strength of the bone. The fractures were long and diagonal. The one in his fibula was singular but the face of the fracture was a two inch split along the narrow bone. The tibia was more complicated. It was a comminuted fracture, the bone had been twisted and then it had split and splintered into three bits and then further forces had driven one of the bits of bone down into another and caused it to fragment. It was a nasty fracture but they would be able to fix it. She used the same software to highlight the bones, the fractures, and the metalwork required. The best way would be to put a nail right down the middle of his tibia. They'd be able to fix it at the top and the bottom and keep him straight that way. Then a plate on the fibula would hold if along the length of the fracture. They'd just have to make sure it could be taken out. It was serious but it was fixable and in someone fit and healthy like the Doctor, Martha didn't think there would be an issue with him healing and regaining full strength.

She moved onto his ankle. She got the computer to highlight the separate bones first and then went through with the red pen to highlight the fractures. Both the tibia and fibula were broken above his ankle which was the point of the main distortion. Both malleolus had sheared and there was a fracture through the calcaneus bone of his heel. It definitely ruled out any kind of traction for his knee. She was disappointed to see there were also breaks in three bones of his foot two of which were displaced. It was probably the point where he'd first hit the ladder. She knew he always wore the Converse trainers but she had a pair and she'd stopped wearing them because they tended not to be very supporting. The soles were thin and didn't have a great grip. They were designed for the basketball court and for fashion, definitely not for a single footed landing from a twenty five foot drop onto a narrow metal bar. Martha manipulated the fractures on the board so they all came back in line and then she used the blue pen again to try to fix it all.

Once she had reviewed the injuries she put the 'fixed' images all together on the board she had cleared of his head injury to see how the fixation of his knee would interfere with that of his mid-shaft fractures, and how the fixation of them might interfere with his ankle. They'd have to make significant alterations and adaptations to standard fixation to accommodate the three injuries but it looked doable. She would have to speak to the orthopaedic team and then the Doctor once he was more settled.

Martha stored her manipulated images into the database then returned all the X-rays to their natural state just before the door opened and a prematurely white haired man in a lab coat entered.

"Morning, Martha, sorry I was a while I had Libby Taylor in clinic." James came into the assessment room. "So what have we…" he knew Martha called him to consult. He looked at the initial photographs up on the wall. "Good God, now that's a beauty." James moved closer to look at the photographs. "Wow, which poor bastard has done this to himself? That's spectacular."

"It's the Doctor, James." Martha advised him gravely.

"What? Luke?" James asked. Luke Wilson was the doctor on external duties and judging by the flooring the picture wasn't taken anywhere in medical. He didn't know how such an injury could be received in the unit.

"No, _the _Doctor. Did you hear we had a code 9?" Martha asked him.

"What, the Doctor, Doctor?" James checked. "Code 9 Doctor? Your Doctor? All of time and space, UNIT Scientific Advisor, Doctor?"

"Yeah, him," Martha confirmed with a roll of her eyes.

James grinned and looked at the picture again. "Is that inside of the TARDIS?"

"Yes, it is," Martha offered. "He's made a mess of his leg, James."

"You can say that again, but, um, don't." James had a look at the films. "You know it looks bad here." He pointed at the photos. "But, when you break it down to the composite injuries it's not the end of his leg." He rubbed his dark goatee beard as he looked at the X-ray image of his knee. "You've reduced this a little compared to the photograph?"

"It wouldn't go fully." Martha confirmed.

"No, not with that fracture. We're going to have to really pull that apart to get it to go back in. We'd put it straight into traction to loosen it right up before we tried to reduce it further, but, not with the tibia and calcaneus fractures. He is going to need it putting back together in theatre." He picked up a black electronic pen and did some scribbles on the board, deep in thought. Martha watched. She was a good all round trauma medic, pathologist, she had a good bedside manner, and she was the medical director so in charge of the full facility on the largest UNIT base. She also knew when to step back. James Lloyd was one of the best orthopaedic specialists in the world. "In your opinion is anything a surgical emergency?" James asked Martha.

"He'd lost blood flow to his foot. I partially reduced and it has been restored. As you can see he needs further reduction, but, the blood flow is good." Martha confirmed. "None of the injuries are open and though there is significant swelling there is nothing to suggest arterial involvement. He had full skin sensation prior to manipulation so no major nerve damage. He remains in an unacceptable level of pain despite being medicated."

"If he has no surgical emergency grade injuries I'll book him in for surgery in 48 to 72hrs time. Let's give him a chance to lose some of the swelling. We'll get him as straight as possible and into a long leg back-slab cast; that will make him more comfortable. We can have him on full bed rest until he's fit for surgery and fix him up and see about getting him non-weight bearing but mobilising out of bed a few days, maybe a week, after that."

"Anything we use to fix him needs to be removable due to his ability to regenerate," Martha advised James. The orthopaedic expert stood and thoughtfully stroked his grey flecked goatee beard as he studied the images. It worried Martha that he studied them for a minute.

"That'll make it more interesting, but it isn't going to make it impossible. If he's in discomfort we should be concentrating on getting him as straight as possible and cast. We can do another full set of scans once that is done and then work out how best to stabilise and fix." James went onto the computer. He selected the photograph of the Doctor's leg taken in the TARDIS and transferred it into a portfolio of the serious injuries he has treated. "This one is going up on the wall of fame." He commented. "So where is he?"

"He's in Trauma Treatment Alpha at the moment. Once he is cast I'm going to ask Celia and Bill to clear out and deep clean the East wing. We've only one patient in there and she is due for discharge. So we can get her up ready to do her final assessment. If she doesn't meet her discharge criteria there are beds in general since she is no longer critical. Then I'm going to have the Doctor transferred in and I'll put a level four quarantine up to keep out non-essential staff and visitors. I don't want him turned into some kind of exhibit while he's here."

"What, you mean like, don't stare at the alien?" James teased slightly.

"Yes, like that." Martha laughed. "I think everyone here is taught about code 9's in their first week of training. He's not really one for fan clubs or scrutiny at the best of times. I don't think he is going to appreciate it while he is laid up, in pain, and frankly a bit scared. If he is under any kind of undue pressure then he will want to run."

"He's not going to be running for a while."

"I think he's scared he won't be running again at all."

"I don't blame him," James commented as he looked at the photograph again. "Barring unforeseen complications he will, so, let's go and reassure him of that. Has he seen these images?"

"No, and, until his leg is straight and he is in a better frame of mind I don't want to show him. In a couple of days we may get him to consult and to approve the course of action for surgical fixation, but he's not up to it just yet." Martha didn't want the Doctor to be frightened by the number of breaks he had in his knee, leg, and ankle. Not when he'd been talking about regeneration and having his foot chopped off. He needed more time to come to terms with it and get over the shock. They needed to get him to a position where he could rest comfortably and not be battling with constantly high levels of pain.

"We've got all the casting supplies in Alpha haven't we?"

"Yes."

"And, we're going to need some additional hands. To look after him and to give us a hand with his leg, so who have you got round today?"

"I've got Gerald. He's given me a hand so far."

"Gerald is good. He will make a fine orthopaedic specialist when I get my hands on him."

"He's mine." Martha challenged as they both laughed at the standing joke they shared when they got good junior medics on the team. Gerald had especially requested to work with Martha due to the variety of the things she did from general practise work with the soldiers and their families living on base, to critical field trauma, they had a tropical diseases centre, they had the main orthopaedic centre and though James and his team consulted. Martha did a lot of the work and she managed it. She could always get Gerald into a good surgery if one came up. She expected he'd want to help with the Doctor's so it would be good for his professional development to be involved at all stages. When the Doctor was more comfortable she hoped the Time Lord would begin to let his personality come out again and mentor Gerald a bit as a distraction.

"I've Barb in today." James advised. "Let me page her to come down. She'll be handy to have round too." James got onto the internal communication system and gave the instruction for Barb, one of his orthopaedic nurses, to attend the Trauma Alpha unit for assessment and treatment.

"So, time to meet the illustrious Time Lord." James advised.

"If he is quiet and withdrawn don't take it personally. He's in pain and I he's been knocked down by this. He's not normally like that," Martha prepared James. "If, however, he's rude and obnoxious?" Martha grinned. "That is just him."

Martha led James down to the treatment room where the Doctor was lying on the bed. Gerald had finished stitching his head for him and the dressing had been removed. He'd used a warm flannel and carefully cleaned all the blood from his face and in his hair. There was a small cut on his forehead and Gerald had crossed a couple of steri-strip dressings over to hold it closed. His left eye was swollen entirely shut and there was dark blue bruising leaking into the lid, across his cheekbone, and down toward his jaw. The Doctor had an ice pack in his hand, but it was resting on his chest.

"Have you hurt your ribs, Doctor?" Martha asked him as he looked at her worried by her return. He knew they needed to do more horrible things to his leg.

"No, ribs are fine."

"Then, shouldn't that ice pack be on your face?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Nagging already?" The Doctor pouted but did what he was told. Martha just shook her head at him.

"You will be pleased to hear there is nothing to worry about with regards to your head. Your skull is fine and there are no breaks or cracks to any of the facial bones around your eye socket or your cheek. It's all soft tissue so the ice will do you good," Martha assured him. "Now, your leg is another matter. This is James Lloyd. He's the head of UNIT's orthopaedic team and he's going to be the one fixing up your leg."

"Pleased to meet you, Doctor." James extended his hand to shake. The Doctor nodded slightly and shook his hand back. "I am sure you wish it was under different circumstances and I know you must be worried so I'm just going to cut to the chase. I have reviewed the films of your injury and it is serious. However, I don't see there being anything that is going to have a life changing impact. It is going to take a lot of treatment, a lot of time, and a lot of hard work but we will get there."

"Okay."

"I promise you I'll do everything I can with the skills and experience I have in treating injuries like yours to achieve a maximum level of recovery for you. What I need from you right now from the start is an acknowledgement that you'll comply and adhere to medical recommendations while you're healing and that you'll work hard while you're rehabilitating. That is how we'll achieve the best recovery for you."

"A full recovery?"

"Until we've been able to fully assess and surgically fix your injuries and see how you heal I won't be able to confirm that, but, I am confident that unless there are any complications we will achieve as close to it as possible. At this stage I am optimistic, but it'll depend on a number factors. Unfortunately only time will tell, but we'll know a lot more once we've been able to operate. All being well, we'll be looking at carrying out your initial surgery in the next two to five days. Once that is complete we'll be better able to understand how you're going to come back together." James wasn't going to lie to the Time Lord. "Do you know why we can't operate straight away?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me," James insisted.

"My skin is stretched too tight with the swelling around my injuries. If it was incised you'd not be able to close. That you're not operating straight away means you don't think anything is a surgical emergency so you can allow the swelling to reduce before operating to properly close the wounds and reduce the risk of infection," the Doctor slurred a couple of times with the drugs but he could still think straight, breaking his leg hadn't turned him into an imbecile. Standing slightly behind James he saw Martha smile at his confident response at least she knew better than to ask him pointless questions.

"Excellent." James leant on the edge of the Doctor's bed, resting his hip on the metal frame as he talked to him. "Martha told me you don't want to know the finer details of your injuries just yet, so I won't go into the details. What you do need to know is that you have dislocated your knee and your ankle joints. I am fairly sure you're aware of that at this point."

"With mid-shaft fractures." The Doctor didn't want James to forget them. "They are very unstable. I thought my leg was hanging off," he whined losing his composure slightly. "It was dangling and bent." He grimaced as fear drove his pain levels higher than he could manage.

"Nothing is open, Doctor," Martha assured him. She had always known the active involvement of the Time Lord brain meant the Doctor was able to deal with pain in a way humans tended not to be able to. He could think himself out of a degree of the pain he was in, but it was so severe he could only exist just below his limit. When he got worried he lost that composure and the pain escalated beyond his tolerance.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Martha confirmed. "If you had anything open we'd be taking you straight into surgery wouldn't we?"

"Yeah."

"And we're not," she reminded him. "Like you said, nothing is a surgical emergency. We'll make you more comfortable and take some time to design your treatment. Your leg is unstable, but now you're here it won't be dangling or bent because we're going to take care of it." Martha refrained from telling him the way his leg had snapped it probably was hanging off and the fragmented bone made it less stable than if it were a clean break. It hurt her to see him as worried and as in pain as he was. He was in a position where he knew enough to know of the possibilities and was vulnerable and shocked. She hoped once he was cast, they had got his pain to a more manageable level, and he'd been able to rest for a while he'd be in a better frame of mind.

"It's so bad."

"It's serious, Doctor, but it's not going to be cut off and it's not going to be dangling anymore. We're going to fix you up. It would've been harder because you were on your own and it must've been a shock. At the moment it is going to seem worse because you're worried and you're wearing yourself out. I'm sure once you're more comfortable and we can talk properly about what you've done then you'll see that while serious, it is probably not as bad as you imagined when you saw it a little bent?"

"A little bent?" the Doctor whimpered. "Every time I moved it flopped."

"You weren't at the bottom of the ladder when I went into the TARDIS. Why did you move from where you landed?" Martha had no doubt he'd immediately known his leg was seriously injured and that he should have stayed where he was.

"I had to get the handbrake off."

"I'm sorry." Martha caressed his head.

"Right," James interrupted. "We need to see about getting you sorted. Martha did a great job of reducing your ankle enough to restore the blood flow and to get your knee into position to be splinted for transport." James didn't want there to be a loss of clinical focus with the need to care for the obvious, and understandable, emotional impact of his accident. "What we need to do is get you into a better position so we can apply a cast. It will keep you still and secure and reduce the pain you're in and enable you to rest until we're able to perform surgery," James explained. "We're going to give you some top up drugs and reduce your injuries further and apply the cast. Then Martha is going to clear out a whole section of our hospital for you and you'll be able to recuperate there for a couple of days until we operate. Martha and her team will look after you."

James explained what they were going to do to the Doctor firmly and with an authority that came from him being an unfamiliar medic rather than a friend. It seemed less like a suggestion when it came from James than from Martha. The Doctor preferred Martha. Her whole attitude and demeanour was softer. Not once had James asked him how he felt about it or how much he was hurting.

"Have you any questions, Doctor?" Martha checked with him.

"Is he your boss?" he asked her seeing how James seemed to take control of things.

"Actually," James answered. "Martha is my boss," he advised.

"James is the orthopaedic specialist, so he will lead in terms of stabilising your leg."

"I'll be reducing your leg now, Doctor. Then I will be involved with any and all surgeries required. I'll be doing any orthopaedic reviews so you'll be seeing a fair bit of me over the coming months. However, Martha and her team will take care of you on a day to day basis. She'll be the one leading your care and looking after you both as an inpatient and an outpatient. I'm only going to be looking after your leg. Okay?" James checked with the Time Lord.

"You're not taking over from Martha?"

"No, I won't be."

"Good."

"I'm only here to consult and offer my expertise with dealing with traumatic orthopaedic injury. You'll be seeing a lot more of Martha than me." James thought the Doctor seemed to look relieved. He thought Martha looked a little relieved as well. She'd probably thought the Doctor wanted someone else to take over his care. "Now that is all cleared up and we're sure you're going to be getting the best on-going care are you happy for us to proceed and get your leg straight and casted for you?"

"I wouldn't say I'm happy about it."

"It does need to be done, Doctor. I am going to give you a shot of ketamine like last time."

"Will it be enough?" the Doctor asked Martha. "Will it knock me right out?"

"It will be the same as when we were on the TARDIS and I partially reduced your knee and ankle," Martha commented. "Did it hurt you too much then?" She wanted to know herself if it had been enough. He hadn't shouted at her for torturing him and he'd not complained about how much she had hurt him when he had been screaming at her as she'd tugged on his leg. It seemed ketamine worked in a similar way on Time Lords as on humans because the Doctor looked puzzled and disconcerted as he tried to pin down and decipher the associated memory.

"Do you remember me reducing your knee and ankle a bit in the TARDIS when I put the splint on for you?" Martha asked the Doctor.

"I think so." The Doctor frowned.

"Did it hurt?"

"It must have done."

"Do you remember it being the most painful thing you've ever endured in your life?" Martha asked with a knowing smile.

"No," the Doctor accepted and then groaned. "That was getting my leg back out of the ladder."

"Did it get stuck?" Martha felt herself pale as she remembered how the ladder was angled right across the console but wasn't flat because it had wedged against the upper deck of the flight deck. The Doctor said the ladder slammed shut on his leg. If he'd got stuck? She had no idea how he managed, and he had been on his own?

"I needed help and I had to get it out in order to reach the handbrake. With the damage the ladder did there was no way she could circumvent it." The Doctor sounded close to breaking as he recalled what he had to do.

"You did what you needed to do to get to us," James commended him. "Now, you're here we need to do what you came here for us to do. If you don't recall how much reducing your knee and ankle hurt while you were on ketamine I think we should proceed with the same," he suggested and looked to Martha.

"I concur, should we get on?"

"I know you have to," the Doctor accepted.

"It'll be fine, Doctor." Martha caressed his cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

"We're going to have another nurse giving us a hand as well, Doctor," Martha told him as Barb knocked on the treatment room. Martha beckoned her in. "Doctor, this is Barb. She's one of our nurses and she is currently attached to the orthopaedic team so she is going to give us a hand. "Barb, this is the Doctor."

"Hello," the Doctor acknowledged the female nurse as she came in. He hoped she was called Barbara or something similar that shortened naturally to Barb and not that she had the temperament of a fish hook.

"Hiya." Barb smiled at him. She was probably about thirty years old, but a young thirty, with short spiked blond hair. She was wearing the male version of the UNIT nurses uniform rather than the female one Anita was wearing. "I reckon we can wait for proper introductions, can't we? It looks like we're about to be doing nasties to you so I don't want to keep you waiting any longer."

"Barb, can you take head," James instructed and she nodded. She positioned herself at the top of the Doctor's bedside.

"Now, we do get better acquainted," she offered as she checked what was available. "Which feed are we using?" She wondered why the face mask was only attached to the oxygen feed and not to the Entonox nitrous oxide feed that would offer him relaxing pain relief.

"Only oxygen. He doesn't tolerate Entonox," Martha advised. "We're going to be medicating him with a substantial dose of ketamine."

"Oh, the good stuff," Barb offered and winked at the Doctor.

"He burns through drugs very quickly, so you need to monitor his level of awareness constantly throughout," Martha explained. Barb nodded her understanding. "Doctor? I'm pushing the drug into your canola now, so you'll feel yourself drifting off. Don't fight it."

"That's it." Barb caressed his head, sweeping his hair back from his forehead as his eyes began to get heavy. She fastened the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth and checked the heart monitor, not realising until she saw the two lines that it was the Time Lord Doctor Martha had introduced her to. She'd thought it an unfortunate medic from another hospital or some locum she'd not met yet. She made sure she had a good look at the vitals on display so she knew if they were going out of synch. They had to expect him to be fine or they'd have taken more time to familiarise themselves.

"Doctor?" Martha tried to get his attention. He didn't respond. When she tapped his hand and called his name again he still didn't respond. Barb carefully checked his eyes, they were rolled back slightly. Martha glanced up and saw he was totally out of it. "Okay, I think we're ready to go." Martha advised.

"Let's get the splint off and out of the way so we can have a proper look at what we're dealing with here," James instructed. He unfastened the Velcro straps holding the splint and pulled out the release valve so the air hissed out. The Doctor moaned in his drug induced delirium. Barb told him not to worry about it as she held his hand and rubbed his shoulder. James wasn't as careful or as gently as Martha had been as he lifted the Doctor's leg and moved the splint right out of the way. He wasn't rough by any means and he protected the movement in the mid-shaft fractures, but he manhandled him out of the splint rather than supported him out of it. He stood with his back towards the head of the bed so he didn't have to think about the Doctor. Barb was there for that.

"First things first. I don't want to be worrying about breeching the skin while we're working on his knee or ankle." James pulled his orthopaedic supplies trolley over and rummaged in the bottom draw. There was a long clear plastic tube in there and he pulled it out. He slid it up over the Doctor's leg so it was several inches below his knee and stretched to several inches above his ankle. He got Gerald to hold his leg up with the fractures in the middle as straight as possible and Martha to apply traction to keep them straight. He triggered an electronic pump to inflate the sleeve until it was so tight around the Doctor's leg that the Time Lord's skin went white with the pressure it was applying. The Doctor wailed, but as James lifted his leg by his ankle the sleeve stopped limited the movement in the mid-shaft fractures. It couldn't stay on for long, there was less risk to them as they worked on his knee and his ankle.

"We'll do his knee first. Then his ankle. Then we'll remove the sleeve and redress the mid-shaft fractures as we apply the cast. We're not going to get them properly aligned without surgery. We're aiming for a straight leg for casting," James explained to the medics around him.

"I struggled to get his knee to go," Martha reminded James. The way the Doctor's leg was positioned his hip had to be rotated out because his knee wasn't straight. It was bent to about 70 degrees and twisted.

"Let's have a look then. Gerald, I want you to anchor from his thigh please. Raise his leg to 60 degrees from the bed and we will have a look at where we're at." Gerald lifted the Doctor's leg up using his thigh. He held him so his leg was elevated well off the mattress and they didn't support his knee or his ankle. The sleeve prevented his leg just from dangling down from the breaks but there was some movement. The Doctor didn't like it because he wailed. Barb tried to comfort him, but he was so out of it. He probably didn't know what was hurting just that something was.

"That is the head of his tibia there," James advised as he grabbed the Doctor's leg. It was higher and up the back of his leg than his knee should have been. He tried to pull it down but there was no movement. He gripped the Doctor's leg below his knee and tried to pull it along the line of his leg but there was no movement. When he tried to rotate it there was some movement but only in a way they did not want his knee to go. He couldn't bend his knee any further. When he tried to force it straight there was some resistance, but the movement wasn't prevented. The Doctor's wail turned into a cry as his knee was forced to move. It didn't mask the sound of bone on bone completely. His knee still didn't shift properly. If they couldn't get him into a better position they were going to have to risk taking him into surgery despite the swelling and then he'd be left with open wounds for days on end and an infection risk.

"If we hyperextend and then apply traction will it go?" Martha winced as she asked the question. "It is likely hyperextension that caused the original injury but then he's fallen further and had the ladder slam shut on him. Maybe if we hyperextend him again it will free the tibia head and allow us to reduce him."

"Brutal, but it is worth a try." James nodded. "We're not going to do any additional ligament damage. He's got none left intact in there," he advised. "Do you want to try it?"

"Okay?" Martha stepped in and took hold of the Doctor's leg as James stepped to the side to assist. His leg was heavier than she expected in the position Gerald was holding it in. She continued to gradually and slowly straighten the Doctor's leg until there was a definite step from femur down to tibia with no knee. "Gerald. Lower his leg down so it is flat on the bed," Martha instructed.

James handed her a roll and she slid it under the Doctor's thigh so there was a gap between the back of his knee and the mattress. "Now, anchor him down onto the roll, Gerald." Martha waited until Gerald was in position then she gripped the Doctor's leg putting her strongest hand underneath him as she was going to force his knee beyond straight so the joint bent backward. As she started with the movement the Doctor cried out. "It's alright, Doctor, it won't be long," Martha called out to him.

"Barb is looking after him," James stated. "You need to concentrate on this not on him," James insisted. When Martha got some resistance she hesitated. "Keep going. It's going to work, but you need to take him right back." James put his hand on the Doctor's leg and guided it further. There was an audible cracking sound and his leg shifted suddenly so it was bent back a full 90 degrees. Martha recoiled it felt like something horrible had happened as the Doctor cried and wailed.

"That's it." James took back over from Martha knowing she was not comfortable with the way the Doctor was crying out. "Now we just apply the traction. If you maintain the angle in his knee?" James got Martha to hold him bent the wrong way as Gerald anchored his thigh down. James hooked his hands around the Doctor's lower leg and pulled downward away from his knee. "Slowly, Martha, reduce the extension back to neutral while I maintain the traction."

When they got his leg back down so it was straight there was no step in his knee. There was a slight lateral displacement but James easily manipulated it back by bending his knee up slightly. He then put the roll behind it.

"Have we got a patella floating round anywhere?" he asked. The Doctor's knee was so fat and swollen it was hard to see the bulge. He felt all around his knee, pushing deep into the fluid and bruising, making the Doctor cry out as he located the patella and then palmed it back round to the front of his knee. They'd be able to fix it properly during surgery.

"How stable is he?" Martha knew she shouldn't have thought to ask the question. Barb would advise them if she needed to. James put his hand under the Doctor's knee and lifted. His tibia shifted in every direction instead of being held in place by the ligaments and tendons that had all sheared from bone or snapped. There was going to be a lot of reconstruction required. But his knee was back in line.

"He is settling back down again," Barb confirmed as she caressed the Doctor's head. He seemed to have gone back to sleep with the drugs again already.

With his knee and the fractures in his shin both straight it was easier to see how far out his ankle was. His heel was to the side of his leg and his toes were pointing to four o clock instead of midday. His skin was pink and James found the two pulses Martha had marked with pen easily.

"No more…" the Doctor moaned as James gripped his heel. He'd seen on the X-rays that there was a fracture in his heel that needed manipulating. He squeezed it and pushed up on it until his whole foot started to slip forward on the breaks in his ankle. The Doctor wailed. He continued to moan as James used his thumbs to bend his actual foot and push the breaks back in.

"They've done your knee, Doctor. They just need to do your ankle and then you'll have a cast and it will all be done." Barb caressed his head. She looked to Martha. "Can you top him up a bit?"

"He's had the maximum dose already." Martha shook her head. "He's not waking up yet is he?" Martha checked. Barb gently pulled the Doctor's eyelids down and checked.

"He's still out of it." Barb confirmed.

"Keep a close eye on him. It took us longer on his knee than I'd hoped." Martha didn't want the Doctor to start to come round until they were finished and he was cast. She'd given him more ketamine than in the TARDIS so it would last longer. She just wasn't sure how much longer.

"Gerald, come and anchor him here." James put his hand over the Doctor's shin below the breaks. He'd put a roll under the back of his heel to lift his leg. Because of the extent of the injury to his knee he couldn't bend his leg right up to relocate his ankle as he'd have wanted so he was going to have to use more force and a different technique to the one he preferred for this kind of injury.

"No… don't…" the Doctor whined as James gripped his foot. He held his broken heel in the palm of one hand and put the other hand over the top of his foot.

"Hold him." James instructed to Gerald. "Martha, can you get ready with the casting materials. We need to go straight on over his ankle once we're straight because it's not going to stay."

Martha got what she needed prepared as James lifted his own foot onto the end of the bed for anchorage and used his body weight as he leant back and pulled on the Doctor's leg.

"Stop it…" the Doctor called out and then screamed in agony. His breathing started to get quicker and uneven.

"Doctor Jones?" Barb worried he was starting to come round even though when she'd checked his eyes they had indicated he was still very much out of it.

"James?" Martha shared Barb's concern.

"If we don't finish we'll lose his ankle and his knee and have to do it again," James warned. "We're almost there. You gave him more ketamine than would kill a human. He can't be coming round yet. Get ready with the padding and foam rolls," James instructed. Martha hesitated. She couldn't give him any more ketamine, but she increased the level of Bladamine to the maximum in the hopes it would help him more.

James pulled on the Doctor's leg, anchoring the bed with his foot on the frame. The Doctor screamed. James brought his foot round into a decent position. When he let go it slid back round to the side again. He pressed into the breaks above the line of his foot and felt where they were. Then he drew down on them and back into his foot, angling it round and pulling his heel down and back.

"Stop it…" the Doctor whined.

"Gerald, get an ultra sound image of this," James instructed. Gerald used a hand held probe and the image came up on a screen. "We're still not good there." James pulled on the Doctor's ankle. "Martha, as I pull down, I need you to push up and forward. We need to reposition his heel and angle his foot at the same time. Then you need to go in for the casting straight away," James instructed. As James pulled down on his foot and ankle Martha used the heel of her hand on the heel of his foot and pushed it upward. "Okay, start applying the padding."

Martha took a roll of soft cotton wool bandage and started wrapping it around the Doctor's foot and ankle. She had to go around James's hands initially, but then he moved them one at a time.

"Please… no more…" the Doctor whimpered.

"There are almost done, now Doctor. They're putting the cast on now," Barb advised him.

"Kay…" the Doctor moaned.

Barb didn't expect to get any kind of answer from him, but the Time Lord acknowledged her. "Martha, he's definitely waking up, he's starting to respond."

"Yeah." Martha knew they still had at least ten minutes of work to do and they had to get the sleeve off the fractures in his leg and put his knee into a position suitable to be cast in.

"We can't stop," James insisted. When he restored the angle in the Doctor's foot as Martha wrapped the padding around the Doctor yelled with the pain. "You're doing great, Doctor, it won't be long now," James called up to him. He knew they had to continue but it didn't mean he liked doing it when it started to become clear it was actually hurting.

"No, no, no… m'way…" the Doctor slurred and moaned.

"What do you want to do about the sleeve?" Martha knew they couldn't leave it on underneath, but deflating it and taking it down would risk his ankle as James was holding it in position.

"Cut it off." James had new ones in stock. He changed his stance slightly and pulled down on the Doctor's leg so when the support to the fractures was lost it didn't just bend in the middle of his shin. The Doctor cried out as he pulled. When Martha took scissors and cut the supportive sleeve off the Doctor screamed as there was an unavoidable movement in the middle of his leg.

"M'way!" the Doctor yelled. Martha continued to apply the padding right up to the Doctor's knee and then they had to reposition his leg again. Gerald held him in position so Martha could wrap the padding right up to his hip and his knee was in a decent position to cast. So it didn't slip they were going to cast him with his leg bent to 60 degrees so they positioned him.

The Doctor's long wail broke into staccato whimpers as he lost composure in his breathing to rasping gasps with the pain as his knee was repositioned.

"Come on, Doctor, deep breaths," Barb tried to encourage him.

"Stop…"

"We can't stop, we're going to be done very soon though."

"Mar…" the Doctor whined and writhed on the bed but then shrieked in a new agony.

"Shit! Keep him still!" James snapped as he lost the reduction in his ankle as the Doctor tried to roll away. It had been unexpected and Gerald and Anita both came to hold his leg.

"Martha?" the Doctor moaned deeply. "Stop… please."

"I can't, Doctor, we're almost done."

"I'm awake."

"I'm so sorry, we're almost done." Martha carried on wrapping the padding round his leg. Doubling it up over his knee and over his ankle so there was more room for him to swell up. Martha finished with the padding and then got some long wide strips of cotton covered foam and put one up either side of his leg and taped them on. She cut them off at the angle of his knee and then put them along his thigh as well. It meant she could cast him and he'd still have room to swell and not be digging in. She dipped a roll of Plaster of Paris bandage into a bucket of warm water for it to soak. She paused as James had to pull his ankle again and then she immediately started to wrap the warm plaster around the joint.

"Make sure you mould it well. We don't want any movement," James instructed. "Do a whole cast and we can split it once it is dry."

"Not just a back slab?" Martha had not expected to be doing a full cast.

"He's in too much pain and too unstable. We can put a whole cast on. Let it dry, and then split it. That in combination with the foam should do better for him," James insisted.

"Okay." Martha knew James was more experienced than she was. She would have just done a back slab cast for him, but then when his leg was so unstable with three points of injury it probably wouldn't be enough. She wrapped the plaster around his foot and worked her way up to the middle of his shin. She got some strips of plaster and smoothed them over his foot, heel and around his ankle. The Doctor whimpered. As James slightly adjusted the position as Martha smoothed the plaster he cried out.

"He's not going to be able to endure any more of this." Barb had taken to using a damp cloth on the Doctor's brow as the Time Lord was beading with sweat. His heart rates had gone up and he was gasping on the oxygen in between cries as his blood oxygen levels reduced.

"We're almost done," James advised.

"You said that ages ago," Barb argued on the Doctor's behalf as she was the one charged for taking care of him and ensuring he remained stable. "He can't take any more."

"He has to because we can't stop."

"I'm telling you that I think you're going to have to," Barb argued with the senior specialist. "He's awake and he can't cope. You might just be interested in his leg but it's not going to do him any good if he collapses into shock is it? Look." She tapped the monitor that showed his double heart rates. They were racing and his blood oxygen had dropped to less than 80% and his blood pressure was higher than Martha had ever seen it.

"We need to stop to let him calm down," Martha confirmed.

"When can you give him more ketamine?"

"He metabolises it to an intermediate chemical which lingers and can still overdose him. It'll be half an hour, up to an hour more until we can give him another dose."

"Okay, the amount of pain he is in now without the completed cast is not an acceptable level for him to endure for that amount of time, especially as he will continue to burn what is left in his system increasing his current level of pain. We either splint his leg back up again and then have to take the cast we've started off and then reduce him again, or, we continue aware that he's in pain but knowing it will be over more quickly and he won't have to wait." James tried to weigh up the choices, as the difficulty reducing his knee and the Time Lord's metabolism created a painful dilemma.

"Continue…" the Doctor whimpered.

"Doctor, are you sure?" Martha asked him.

"Please… not again."

"It won't be long, Doctor." James nodded to Martha. She soaked another roll of the plaster bandage and continued to work on his leg. She wrapped it round and smoothed it down, building up the cast in layers so it stretched from behind his toes to his hip. When they had to reposition his knee the Doctor hollered and blacked out. For a moment Barb worried he'd actually gone into a respiratory arrest as his staccato gasps stopped. After far too many seconds he settled back into a more comfortable breathing pattern.

"That was his respiratory bypass taking over for a moment to allow him to recover. It took him far to long to pass out, he's too stubborn for his own good," Martha advised Barb as the nurse was checking the oxygen flow and looked worried. Martha worked efficiently to finish his cast while the Doctor was fainted. She smoothed it out and checked there were no rough edges that might irritate him. She pulled the soft padding down at the top edge and at the toe and secured them.

"It's been ages since I applied a full long leg cast with Plaster of Paris." Martha would only form a back slab cast with plaster as it was too heavy for movement once the patient was up on crutches or using a wheelchair. The Doctor wasn't going to be going anywhere until after surgery so the heavy cast was fine. She knew the Time Lord would object, but he was not going to be moving from the bed. If he needed the bathroom it would be bedpan or bottle.

"It's a decent cast," James ran his hand over it. "Anita, can you get the air dryer in and let's dry it off quickly so we can split it."

The Doctor moaned as he started to come round again. Barb was still at his head and she tried to take his wrist when he went to take the oxygen mask off. "Let him take it off," Martha instructed. "He'll only panic now his oxygen levels are up. He has a genuine aversion to the mask."

"Are you back with us?" Martha checked. The Doctor was bone white and shaking. His brow was wet with sweat and dampness from the cloth Barb had been using. His left eye was bulging with swelling and a deep black purple from the ridge of his brow right the way down to by his ear and across his cheek. The bruise was starting to bleed across the bridge of his nose to blacken his other eye. He was going to end up with two.

"You're all done now, Doctor," James assured him. "All we need to do is get the bed sling up so you're elevated and then when the cast is dry we'll split it so it doesn't get too tight."

"That doesn't sound like all done," the Doctor moaned miserably. He tried to lift his head up to see where Martha was, but he reeled and almost blacked out again. "Dizzy…"

"Easy, love." Barb caressed his head.

"I know you've burned it off, Doctor, but you've still got hefty drugs in your system." Martha took his hand when he stretched his out to her. She was quite surprised he was reaching to her specifically for comfort.

"Doesn't… feel like it."

"I know, but believe me. If you could hear yourself then you'd know. You're all sleepy and slurry now we've stopped torturing you, aren't you?" Martha caressed his head. "It should start to calm down. You need to relax and let the drugs help. Your problem is that something hurts so your body goes into overtime to attack drugs we give you to try to stop it hurting."

"S'not deliberate."

"Oh, I know it's not."

"Is it feeling any better yet, Doctor?" Barb asked him from the other side of his bed.

"It hurts so much…" The Time Lord sounded exhausted. "Thanks… for looking out… for me," he acknowledged the nurse. "I like you…" he commented sleepy with the drugs, but then he let go of Martha's hand and loosely pointed to where James was standing. "I don't like him."

"Oh, don't be like that?" Martha couldn't help but laugh at the dozy Time Lord's comment. "James is one of the best orthopaedic surgeons in the world and he is going to be the one fixing you up. If you're mean he might pin the wrong leg."

Martha carried on gently stroking the Doctor's hair back from his forehead for a moment as the remaining ketamine took him back under. It wasn't going to last long, but she knew he was exhausted and needed the rest. Gerald was still holding his heavy cast leg up, so James and Martha worked over the bed to attach the sling. They tucked it under the back of the cast and then altered the pulley. It wasn't going to be traction, just gave an elevated support to keep his foot the highest part of his body to encourage the swelling to go down. As they eased his leg up higher the Doctor moaned softly, but he didn't wake up.

"We may get away with not splitting the cast until tomorrow." James checked his toes. "As much as he may not like me, I don't want to cause him additional discomfort while he's so exhausted."

"I am sure he didn't mean it." Martha chuckled.

"It doesn't matter if he did or not. I don't care if he likes me or not. I just need him to do what he's told with regards the care of his leg. Are you going to remain on site overnight?" he checked with Martha.

"I'll stay and bunk down when he's sleeping," Martha confirmed.

"Then if it becomes clear he cannot wait until tomorrow for the cast to be split you'll be able to do it?"

"I can do that," Martha agreed.

James squeezed the nail of the Doctor's big toe where it was cradled at the end of the cast. It went white and pinked up again quickly. "No… touching," the Doctor moaned in his drugged sleep. James smiled and shook his head slightly.

"Alright. No more touching, but, let's get some more scans and make sure the positions are good enough, because we don't want to be doing that again, until we're stabilising you properly, do we?" James directed his question to the Doctor, but the Time Lord was to drugged to respond.

Gerald and Martha took the X-rays and then Martha and James went back to the assessment room to check on them. His knee was reduced but the tibia fracture had displaced quite significantly during the procedure. It was to be expected and they'd fix it up. It wasn't so far out it would cause problems while he waited for the swelling to go down. The fracture in his mid-tibia was not in line but was in four bits so alignment wasn't going to be achieved without surgery. His ankle looked reasonably good. It needed pulling back together further, but everything was roughly where it should be. There were no glaring concerns about him remaining as he was for two or three days. The significance of the injuries and the amount he was going to swell was a concern. He could potentially need to wait a week before he was fit for surgery. Martha hoped it wouldn't be that long, but he was secure enough in the cast now that it would be medically acceptable if it did, even if it would be anything but acceptable to the Time Lord.

They briefly discussed whether it would be better to do the fixation internally or with some pretty substantial external scaffolding, wires, and pins. If his knee and ankle were more stable then James suggested he'd favour an external fixator such as an Ilizarov series. The metal rings and wires could be fixed from his mid femur and right down into his foot, but the bulky nature and the difficulty of stabilising his knee and ankle ruled it out. He couldn't use a planar fixator because of his knee injury and ankle injury. So though it would mean he had extensive open surgery to stabilise and then the same to remove the hardware, James and Martha agreed in principle that internal fixation would be the most effective method of treatment. His added healing capabilities meant surgical incisions would not cause on-going concerns and would heal rapidly.

They both went down to check on the Doctor and to reassure him that no further manipulation was required until his surgery. Martha could tell that James was personally interested in the case if not exactly in the Doctor. Normally he'd just leave her to delivery the message and not see the patient again until prior to the surgery. That James was taking the time to go back and speak to the Doctor personally warmed Martha. The Doctor was important to UNIT. She doubted it would be long until her phone didn't stop ringing. Once people found out the legendary Time Lord was there and hurt they'd want to know how he was, if they could visit and meet him, and if he was going to be working for them. It was one of the reasons why she wanted him to move into the East Wing. She didn't want him to get inundated by young soldiers wanting him to confirm, deny, or narrate stories about his time at UNIT or travels before and after.

"Are you awake again?" Martha asked the Doctor. He had heavy bleary eyes but he looked over when she went into the room. "Hello."

"Hi."

"How is your leg feeling? Is it any better now it is cast?" James asked him.

"I'm not sure." The Doctor was still struggling with it and with the drugs. He wasn't entirely sure about anything at all, especially not whether he wanted the drugs to dissolve away and leave him more aware and feeling less dizzy, because he was fairly sure it really was still hurting a lot. Martha put the oxygen line to his nose so it assisted him but he didn't have to battle to tolerate the claustrophobic face mask.

"I am going to leave you in Martha's capable hands now. If you need anything from me then get Martha to give me a call, otherwise, I'll pop in before I go off shift tonight," James advised. "You need to rest and to recuperate prior to surgery, so under no circumstances are you to contemplate getting out of bed?" James warned.

"Oh, he wouldn't." Barb didn't know how they could think he would after all the pain he was in.

"You'd be surprised what he thinks is a good idea." Martha smiled as the Doctor harrumphed at her.


	6. Chapter 6

"Doctor Jones?" Gerald came back into the room after he'd gone to get rid of the rubbish and used equipment from in the room. He didn't like leaving things lying round in the treatment rooms for any time at all. Martha looked at him enquiringly. "Colonel Mace is here. He wants to know if he can come in for an update."

"Now," James started then grinned at Martha. "That is my cue to leave." He winked at the more senior medic. "If you need anything from me then let Martha know, Doctor," he reminded the Time Lord and then he made himself scarce before Colonel Mace came into the room. Barb patted the Doctor on the shoulder and then slipped out, as did Anita, so it was only Martha and Gerald in the treatment room with the Doctor.

"Colonel." Martha saluted him.

"A full update if you will, Doctor Jones." Colonel Mace said nothing if he noticed how the other staff scattered at his arrival. He knew, and understood, there were often differing priorities between military and medical personnel.

"Obviously there is a limit to what I can disclose due to doctor/patient confidentialities." Martha began formally and the Doctor sniggered in his drugged state causing Martha to give him a look that made him duck down on the bed slightly. "As you were aware, having seen him in the TARDIS, the Doctor has a leg injury. I can direct your attention to him now being temporarily cast. I am going to transfer him into the East Wing with a Level 4 quarantine to afford him some peace so he can rest pending surgery in a few days."

"I see." Colonel Mace nodded.

"I will of course be undertaking the role of his primary care giver and I trust you are content for me to do so and for my general duties to be reassigned where necessary. It is my intention to remain posted to the medical unit, save for medical emergencies, until such a time that the Doctor is reasonably able to be discharged."

"And how long will that be?"

"At this time we are unsure but it will be several days."

"I will stand down the code 9," Colonel Mace suggested.

"That is probably a sensible idea, Sir," Martha agreed.

"What's a code 9?" the Doctor slurred from the bed.

"You're a code 9," Martha advised him. "Now, shush. I'm talking to the Colonel and you're all drugged up," she reminded him. "You don't want to be in any more trouble that you already are, so, be good and shush." She turned back to the Colonel. "He is still experiencing the effects of the heavy sedation we needed to give him in order to cast his leg."

"It didn't work," the Doctor complained.

"I trust you are happy with the arrangements and that our medical facilities are freely available to meet the Doctor's needs?" Martha asked though both Gerald and the Doctor could tell she wasn't going to accept a negative response.

"Yes of course," Colonel Mace agreed. "But, what do you suppose we do about the autopsy?"

"Autopsy?! I'm not dead!"

"Not your autopsy, really, Doctor? Please?" Martha despaired slightly. "What to do with a drugged Time Lord?" she tutted.

"Whose autopsy is it?"

"That is classified," Colonel Mace stated firmly and looked at Martha giving an unspoken order not to discuss it with him.

"I have level one security clearance," the Doctor argued. "I have higher security clearance than you do! I still work for UNIT. I never resigned."

"That is very true," Martha confirmed to the Doctor. "However, you are currently injured and my patient. When it comes to medical matters I'm the most senior authority on this base."

"Really?" the Doctor was clearly impressed by that. "Are you his boss?" He pointed to Colonel Mace.

"If it came down to whether someone was medically fit for duty or something was safe then I'm the Medical Director and even the base commander has to listen." Martha stressed the importance of it. "So, a scientific advisor definitely does don't they?"

"I would think so," the Doctor agreed.

"And, since you're a scientific advisor and you've managed to injure your leg you are on medical leave pending my confirmation that you are fit for active duty during which time any security clearance is revoked under Schedule 12 Annex 7 of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce charter." Martha explained and the Doctor frowned wondering why she was being like that, but she winked discretely and returned her attention to Colonel Mace. "I'm sorry, Sir, he'll behave better once the drugs are out of his system."

"Somehow I doubt it," Colonel Mace muttered. "The matter at hand is rather urgent, Doctor Jones."

"Yes, I am aware. It is my recommendation in the circumstances, that you transfer the responsibility of the practical autopsy to Doctor Luke Wilson."

"You have to do what she says. She's the boss," the Doctor piped up.

"Doctor?!" Martha glared at him.

"That's what you said." He pouted quite spectacularly.

"Sorry, Sir. Doctor Luke Wilson is the next qualified and has no urgent duties at the present time. He can have access to my initial visual findings from the medical database and if he needs me to consult I can. I will be limiting my duties to the medical bay and any emergency base requirements pending the Doctor's discharge."

"Understood," Colonel Mace accepted. "Is there anything else you need, Doctor Jones, for, um, for him?" He indicated toward the Doctor.

"Apart from a gag?" Martha asked and then smiled. "No, we're going to be fine for now."

"Martha?" the Doctor whined slightly and she turned towards him. "What's he done to my TARDIS?"

"The TARDIS has been secured inside the warehouse. I have two security personnel stationed to keep it secure pending an opportunity for it to be relocated into a more suitable location," Colonel Mace advised.

"You need to be careful. She's hurt too," the Doctor advised. "No guns."

"Doctor…" Martha started.

"No guns, Martha. They always have guns. They can't have guns," he winced and then groaned, crying out as the pain in his leg escalated.

"Calm down." She took his hand.

"Hurts…"

"Take deep breaths, Doctor, and relax. It will calm down, but if you get all upset then you're going to lose your ability to deal with it, so, calm down and take long slow breaths," she encouraged. Colonel Mace stood watching, not sure if there was anything he could do to help, but feeling pretty damned sorry for the Doctor even if he was going to have to put up with the irascible and unruly Time Lord on base. At least with his injury he'd be confined to medical quarters.

"But… the TARDIS?"

"Do you want me to go to the TARDIS? I can let her know you're alright and put her in standby mode so she can rest."

"Would you do that, for me?" the Doctor whispered as he struggled to get his breathing back under control.

"Of course I would."

"Thank you."

"Now, let me finish my conversation with Colonel Mace?" Martha asked him.

"Okay," the Doctor agreed.

"Without interruption?" She commented. She sighed when he almost prodded himself in his blackened eye as he attempted to put his finger on his lips. Martha ignored him. He waved his hand in front of his face to figure out what had gone wrong. She went to the door again to talk to the Colonel. The senior military man didn't know what he'd let himself in for with the Time Lord being a potentially long term patient, he had to be a long term patient, didn't he? The way his leg twisted made him feel sick just thinking about it.

"How long will those drugs last?" Colonel Mace peered in as the Doctor took to making shadow puppets on the wall.

"Unfortunately they won't last much longer, then he'll be subjected to more of the pain of his injuries. Am I authorised to requisition a vehicle to attend warehouse 7. I don't want to leave him for long."

"That is fine; a vehicle and driver if you prefer." Colonel Mace looked into the room where the Doctor seemed to have quietened down as he suddenly needed to go back to sleep. "He'll recover won't he? It looked particularly, um, gruesome."

"If there are no complications and he shows a reasonable degree of compliance, then yes. I expect him to make a full recovery, but it'll take time and be difficult. He requires extensive surgical repair and more than one trip to theatre over the coming weeks. I shall of course keep you up to date with the timescales. Do you have anything else for me, Sir?" Martha checked when the Doctor moaned and opened his eyes unable to go to sleep because his leg hurt.

"No, that is all, thank you, Doctor Jones." Colonel Mace saluted her and left again.

"He's a bit formal isn't he?" the Doctor complained quietly as Martha stood to attention as the Colonel left.

"He's the base commander, and, like it or not, UNIT is a military establishment."

"Has he gone now?"

"Yes," Martha confirmed.

"Good."

"You were rude, Doctor. He doesn't have to let me off my duties to look after you the way he is. He is being generous under the current circumstances. So, please, I know you're drugged, tired, and sore, but don't rock the boat too much or you're going to end up falling in and you can't get that leg wet."

"Falling in what?" the Doctor puzzled.

"Oh, never mind." Martha laughed. "Let me get Gerald. He can make you a cup of tea and sit with you while I head over to the TARDIS."

"Are there biscuits?"

"I am sure we'll find some."

"Banana creams?"

"Not unless you have any in the TARDIS I can pick up?"

"I ate them," the Doctor commented mournfully.

"Then you'll have to make do with boring old custard creams or bourbons." Martha waited until Gerald came back and then gave the young medical officer strict instruction not to let the Doctor do anything, but drink his tea and eat the array of biscuits he'd located for him.

Martha got one of the UNIT soldiers to give her a lift in an open top supplies jeep to warehouse 7. It would only take Martha ten minutes or so to walk, but that'd be ten minutes there, ten back, and however long she needed in the TARDIS and she didn't want to be away from the Doctor that long until she knew he was more settled. Biscuits were a good start, but she remained worried.

There was an armed guard at the entrance to the warehouse. He saluted and let her pass. She let herself into the TARDIS. She closed the door properly behind her and went over to the console. The main lights remained off, but she could feel it was slightly warmer.

"I came to let you know he is going to be okay." At one time Martha would have felt silly talking to a machine. "He's going to be uncomfortable for a while and it'll take time for him to recover. We've got him straighter and cast so he can rest. We'll operate on his leg in a few days. He's worried and pretty scared, but although it's serious there isn't anything that shouldn't heal fully. He's just going to have to behave and that worries me. He, however, is worried about you. He's asked me to come and put you in standby mode. He'll fix you up when we've fixed him up." Martha patted the console and rubbed her hand over the area where there was visible scorching. She hated to see the TARDIS damaged, and she'd come to learn from the Doctor, that it was as accurate to say she was hurt as it was her pilot.

"Don't worry yourself too much. We've a good orthopaedics team here. You did right to get him here, but, so we can understand the mechanism of his injury and the damage done to his leg, I was wondering if you had any kind of recording. I know you're damaged so if it is too difficult I understand, but if not, it may help us to see what forces were applied."

The screen on the console fizzed with static for a few moments, but then it cleared. It was an internal image of the flight deck and it showed the Doctor up at the top of the ladder. He had his coat on and condensed gasses poured out of the ceiling panels. He had the ladder under one of the ceiling panels and he looked in it. He made some kind of comment about it not being the right one. Martha could see him look down at the base of the ladder. She could almost see the clogs of his mind turning over. He didn't go back down and move the ladder under the adjacent panel; he stretched.

The Doctor leant right away from the ladder to reach the next ceiling panel. He was working in the access hatch, balancing on one leg at the very edge of the ladder. He struggled to move a lever of some kind, but it moved. He exclaimed that he'd got it, then twisted further. He over balance as the ladder rocked, tipping onto two legs.

The Doctor didn't make a sound as he dropped. He let out a high pitched agonised scream when he hit the bottom of the ladder. He fell with his right leg going into the ladder. As the ladder started to tip over it slammed shut on his leg. The Doctor twisted with the momentum of his fall and struck his head and face on the console and then rocked backward so only his shoulders were on the floor. His leg was still trapped inside the ladder as it twisted and slammed into the console breaking it apart and sending a shower of sparks up.

Martha could see and hear the Doctor yelling in agony as he near enough hung from his leg trapped in the ladder. She could see his leg was bent mid shin and a rung of the ladder folded into the breaks, but the ladder was also snapped shut over his knee. He looked dazed. Blood was dripping and running from the cuts on his head. He tried to pull himself fee but he just collapsed down, jerking and twisting his leg further as he screamed. For two minutes he hung bleeding, crying, and trying not to panic.

The Doctor used his hands to pull himself up the ladder and manhandle his leg out of it. He had no choice but to drop down the couple of feet onto the ground. Martha could see what he meant about his leg flopping and dangling. She considered him incredibly lucky that the fractures had not opened. He was holding his leg aloft and didn't look like he knew what to do. He tried to put it down on the ground and when his shin folded he melted and collapsed back. He'd succumbed to the pain and fainted.

Martha was not surprised. The Doctor seemed to be out for a few minutes. Then he started to groan and cry. He dragged himself over to release the handbrake and then back to collapse against the pillar where Martha found him when she'd gone in.

"God, that's horrible." Martha caressed the console. He had been alone and he'd had to deal with all of that? No wonder he seemed as emotionally shattered as his leg. "Can you show me a close up of his leg impacting with the ladder?" Martha wasn't sure she wanted to see it, but she knew it would help them to put him back together if she could view how it happened.

The screen changed. It showed only the bottom of the ladder and the TARDIS slowed the picture down so it was in slow motion. Martha saw the ladder rock and tip slightly. It went up onto two legs, but then back down onto four again. It was then the Doctor came into shot. His foot hit the second to last rung of the ladder. It wasn't a stable place for him to land and his ankle turned violently with the impact. His foot twisted further as his leg went through the rungs. His foot and ankle further impacted with the metal grate floor at the same time as the bottom rung of the ladder literally snapped the Doctor's shin with a direct impact compounded by the twisting nature of the Doctor's fall. The Doctor fell backward as the ladder came up and forward and his knee bent the wrong way before the ladder folded shut and smashed down into the side of his knee like a vice. The Doctor continued to fall backward, twisting his knee at the top as the ladder pinned him and twisted taking the mid-shaft fractures and his ankle out further.

"At least we can see the forces that caused the injuries. He was scared he was going to lose his leg. I don't know if you're worried about that too, but nothing leads me to think he might. We'll fix him. I'm hoping he'll make a full recovery. Can I take copies of the footage? I'd like to be able to share it with the orthopaedic team." Martha asked. A CD popped up out of the console. "Thank you. Now, go into standby mode and rest. I'll make sure he's okay and I'll update you as often as I need. I promise I'll look after him," Martha assured the TARDIS.

Martha didn't want to spend too long away from the Doctor until she knew he was going to cope. She knew he remained in pain with his leg and she thought about adjusting his medication again. Seeing the way his leg crumpled under him, got smashed and twisted in the ladder, and then how he'd had to manhandle and drop onto his leg made her feel quite sick. She wouldn't have wanted to see anyone in that kind of situation, but he was her friend and it hurt even more.

She felt so sorry for him having to get to the hand brake to get help, but, she was also furious with him. What the Hell had he been thinking? Working up at that height and leaning from the ladder the way he had been? Martha was a trauma medic. She knew all about freak accidents, but too many people ended up being hurt by being idiotic and not taking sensible precautions. If he'd climbed down the ladder, shifted it three foot to the left, he'd not now be looking at months of painful healing and rehabilitation. He was paying a very high price for being damned stupid.

As Martha got into the jeep to go back to the medical bay her personal phone started to ring. She was initially surprised to see who the caller ID, but then she guessed there was no reason to be surprised. Martha knew UNIT had a field to detect the temporal disturbances caused by the TARDIS. It had not gone off for a while, and the TARDIS crashing through the roof of a warehouse trumped the little light flashing on an unmanned console. They'd paid more attention since the planets in the sky, but not that much. UNIT were aware and accepted that the Doctor came and went as he needed, or, as he pleased.

What Martha knew was there were other friends with the technologies and the personal interest to keep an eye on the skies to see if the Doctor was around. He'd not come back to Earth since he'd dropped Donna home. She didn't know what he'd been up to over the past couple of months. Hopefully they'd find out and make sure that he was alright. It'd been a hard trip for everyone, but he'd almost regenerated, found and lost Rose, and lost Donna. It was especially hard for him.

As a group of friends they'd been worried since he'd gone off on his own. They'd learned Donna had her memory wiped, but he'd disappeared. Martha looked at the caller ID on her phone again and she knew she couldn't ignore it. She'd spoken to the caller within the last fortnight and had arranged to meet soon, but she was at work and was going to have to be more formal than standard chatter.

"Good…," Martha looked at her watch: it was just after one. The Doctor had been there for over four hours, it had gone by in a blur. "Afternoon, Doctor Martha Jones speaking."

"Martha? It's Sarah Jane."

"Hello, Sarah Jane."

"Are you at UNIT?"

"Yes, I'm at work."

"Mr. Smith picked up a temporal signature that indicates the TARDIS is there? He's got all the TARDIS base codes stored from K9 and, Martha? Do you have a visitor?" Sarah Jane asked. There was no beating around the bush where the Doctor was concerned. "Is the Doctor there? Is he consulting for UNIT?" Sarah Jane checked hoping she'd have time to see him. She was affiliated with UNIT. She could get in to speak to him and check he was alright, though she was sure Martha would tell him off if he was not eating and sleeping properly.

"He is here, Sarah Jane, but he's not consulting."

"Is he visiting?"

"Not exactly." Martha hadn't discussed with the Doctor whether he wanted anyone to know what he'd done. She expected he was going to be Earthbound for weeks if so he would need the support of his friends, but whether he needed that immediately or not was another matter.

"But, he's not consulting? Is there an issue? Is there something Luke and I need to be aware of? Can we help him with anything? Mr. Smith hasn't detected anything else. Some activity in South America a few days ago but that is all."

"There is no local threat of any kind, though I might be asking to share what Mr. Smith knows about the events in the Andes." Martha guessed she was just going to have to tell Sarah Jane. "The Doctor isn't here in an official capacity for UNIT. He's here because I I'm the closest he's got to a medical doctor. He's injured and receiving treatment in the UNIT medical centre."

"What? Is he okay? Or not okay because you said he's injured, but how badly? What is wrong, Martha?" Martha could hear the fear and panic in Sarah Jane's voice. She understood and would've felt the same. She almost did feel the same knowing how seriously he'd injured his leg, but at least she knew it was not life threatening.

"He's not going to regenerate so don't panic about that," Martha assured her. "He's broken his leg," Martha advised without telling her how seriously.

"You're kidding?" Sarah Jane sounded like she was relieved. "The bloody idiot. What was he doing to do that?"

"He'll be around for a while so you should be able to catch up with him."

"I'm on my way," Sarah Jane stated.

"Sarah Jane, I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you, but I'm not sure he's up to visitors yet. He only turned up this morning. We've only just temporarily cast him. He needs to rest quietly."

"I can make sure he rests. You're going to be busy and the minute you turn your back he'll be off running around causing his usual kind of chaos."

"I'm not sure he will be. I think he's given himself a shock as well."

"Then he's going to need his friends."

"Yes, he will, I'm just not sure he is up to it today."

"Oh, he'll be fine. I'll bring bananas," Sarah Jane suggested. Martha didn't know whether she should deny Sarah Jane access, or come clean and tell her how serious his leg injury was, or, whether she should let her come. Maybe it would be nice for the Doctor to have Sarah Jane to hold his hand. She was going to have to be a bit removed because she was going to look after him medically. She didn't want the Doctor upset, or, to be kept from resting.

"I'll be there within an hour," Sarah Jane insisted. Martha was about to say something else but her phone bleeped to announce a call waiting. She was worried it was the medical bay ringing to tell her there was a problem.

"I have to go, Sarah Jane. Someone else is calling."

"I'll just make a call to cancel an appointment and be on my way."

"If you want to wait until tomorrow. I'm sure it will be fine, it may actually be better for…?"

"Nonsense, it's not an important appointment. See you soon."

Martha terminated the call to Sarah Jane and accepted the call waiting for her. "Doctor Martha Jones." She hoped it was the medical bay, but it wasn't something wrong with her Time Lord patient. If she was finding out the Doctor had got out of bed and gone hopping down the corridor he was going to be in an enormous amount of trouble, though she realised she'd be incredibly relieved.

"Now, I know you are holding out on me, Doctor Martha Jones." There was no introduction to the call, only an immediate accusation, but it made Martha smile.

"I don't quite know what you mean, and, I'm not sure I appreciate your tone."

"You always appreciate my tone."

"Is this a social call, because I'm rather busy."

"So it would seem. In fact a temporal signature created a rift spike we tracked all the way to UNIT, and, not only is your phone engaged, but you're on the phone to Miss Sarah Jane Smith, before me?"

"Are you hacking my calls?"

"Just the caller ID." There was a pause. "So?"

"So, what?"

"He's there isn't he? What is he doing there? Did you call him in again? We've intercepted no reports of unusual activity."

"I've not called him, Jack. He hurt himself and came for some treatment." Martha just got to the point rather than go through the full conversation again.

"It must be pretty bad if he's not just sorting himself out?" Jack sounded concerned. "But, not bad enough that he's regenerated? He's not regenerated, right?"

"No, he's not regenerated, or in danger of regenerating."

"So, what's he done?"

"He's broken his leg, Jack."

"Ouch, he'll not be happy about that."

"No, he's not. He's in a fair bit of pain with it and I think he scared himself."

"It sounds like you could do with some help?" Jack suggested. "Do you need someone to keep him company?"

"I'm not sure he's up to visitors yet."

"I'll be quiet if he's asleep," Jack advised. "You'll need some support with him won't you? You're going to have to ground him for a while aren't you? How bad is the break?"

"I'm sorry, Jack, until I talk to him about what I talk to you about I can't tell you the specifics. I probably shouldn't have told you he's broken his leg, but he's got a great old whacking cast on his leg so if you do come, in a few days time, you're going to know that."

"He's going to need his friends around."

"Yeah, he will."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"What?"

"I set out a while back," Jack admitted.

"Why?" Martha sighed.

"I figured if he was there I could say hello and if he's gone I can take you out for a late lunch."

"Well, he's not going to be gone for a while, but I'm not going to be leaving for lunch either."

"I'll stop for take-out," Jack commented. "Chinese okay? Is the Doctor going to be eating?"

"He may do. He's had some biscuits."

"Excellent. Do they still do that lunch buffet in the restaurant around the corner from you?"

"Yeah, they do."

"That was where I was going to take you."

"Another time."

"If I stop for lunch I may be closer to an hour."

"You'll probably see Sarah Jane on your way in then. She's coming too. Make sure you have enough food."

"I can't believe you phoned her first."

"I didn't phone either of you Jack. I was going to let the Doctor get the rest he needs before this started. He's knackered and in pain. If he needs to sleep you need to let him, and no winding him up about it until he's feeling better."

"Scout's honour."

"Pft." Martha chuckled. The Captain hung up. She would be pleased to see Jack, but she wasn't sure how pleased the Doctor was going to be. She suggested to Sarah Jane it might be better the following day, if she was honest she probably would have left it until after his surgery and he was more comfortable and less worried. She was in two minds. Company might be good. Sarah Jane and Jack would be there as long as he needed them, but, she didn't want them to be upset if he wanted to be left alone. He was the one whose leg was in bits. He didn't know how many bits his leg was in yet because he'd been too worried to find out. If it was going to be hard for him to see Sarah Jane and Jack then she was going to send them away.


	7. Chapter 7

"Private Lane?" She addressed the young soldier driving her back from the warehouse back to the medical bay.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Once you have dropped me off, could you please report to the front Gatehouse and advised them that a Miss Sarah Jane Smith and a Captain Jack Harkness will be arriving on site."

"Yes Ma'am."

"When they arrive they are to be escorted via civilian routes to the medical bay and be brought to my attention."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Thank you, Private." Martha got out the jeep and went straight back to the Doctor's room. The Doctor was lying on his bed with his head back and his eyes closed. She could tell he wasn't asleep though.

"How are you doing?" Martha pulled a chair up to the side of his bed. She didn't sit down straight away but pulled the pillow straight a bit where it had got rucked up. The bruising developing on the Doctor's face was becoming more and more harsh against his pallid complexion.

"My leg hurts, Martha." He sounded worn out and exhausted, but she wasn't surprised.

"Let's see how it is if we take the Bladamine up higher." Martha adjusted the drip flow rate. "You've got plenty of Bladamine in there. Does your leg feel better now it is cast?"

"I think so."

"Give the new level of drugs a few minutes to see how it feels then."

"It can't be too high or I'll feel dopey and nauseous."

"I know," Martha accepted. "Unfortunately, it may be the lesser of two evils. If you do feel sick with the drugs we can give you something on top to stop you feeling sick. I wouldn't feel worried about being dopey or drowsy for a while. You need to rest. Where's your ice pack? Has it melted?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get Gerald to fetch another one. Your face is looking pretty sore."

"It's not bothering me. Except, I can't see out my left eye it's so swollen."

"It looks nasty. We'll keep using the ice." Martha smiled sympathetically. "Do you want to see the X-rays we took?" Martha asked him.

"Of my leg?"

"Yeah, there isn't anything to see on the ones of your head and face."

"I don't want to see my leg."

"Why?" Martha asked curiously. "Don't you want to see what you've done?"

"No… it's so bent… it's bad. Isn't it?"

"Like James said, it is serious but there isn't anything we don't think we can fix. We just have to be a bit adaptive because anything we put in we have to take out, but you're leg isn't bent now. We're not going to achieve perfect alignment until we've surgically stabilised you, but you're not bent. Have you not looked at the cast?"

"Not really."

"Doctor, if you look at the cast you'll see you're nice and straight." Martha could tell he was feeling worried and scared. "I think you just need to face up to it a bit." After what he had done to get his leg out of the ladder she was not surprised he was anxious. "Oi." Martha took his hand and caressed his head. "You're going to be okay. I am disappointed you've not looked at my handiwork."

"I'm sure you've done a good job."

"I have, Doctor, and I will." Martha leant over and very carefully hugged him. She didn't expect much of response from him, but not only did he hug her back, he clung to her. "I'm sorry it was so horrible and you're hurting so much. It's going to be sore, but in a few days, once we've operated. You're going to be feeling much better. Then I expect I'll have a hard job keeping you down long enough. I do think you'll feel better if you have a look at your cast. You'll see it is neat and straight. You're leg isn't hanging off and it isn't bent."

"Okay." The Doctor looked down at the cast. It was long and white and his toes were sticking out of the end of it. The plaster on the sole of his foot extended up past the end of his toes so he'd not be able to wriggle them. She'd only have done that if he'd broken bones in his foot. They were pointing upwards though. That was good. It scared him when all of his leg seemed to be going the wrong way. He'd never experienced pain like it and it hadn't stopped. He did feel a bit better. The cast was good. It was smooth and skilled and he could see it had been moulded well, but it wasn't split and it wasn't just a back slab. He was still going to swell inside it.

"It looks more like a leg again doesn't it?" Martha squeezed his hand when he nodded.

"Is it going to get too tight?"

"Yes, and we'll monitor for that. When it does we'll split the cast, but we wanted you to calm down and rest before we do. We've a few hours before we'll need to split it. We may get away with it until tomorrow, but I'll be staying tonight so if the cast does need to be split I'll be here to do it straight away."

"You're staying here?"

"Yeah."

"Do you normally?"

"I don't live here, Doctor."

"So you're staying for me?"

"Yeah, to make sure you behave."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. We do have a bit of a problem though."

"With my leg?"

"No, not with your leg. It's just, I know how tired you must be feeling and I want you to rest. We're planning on moving you to the other side of the unit once the patient there is discharged and it's been cleaned out. The problem is that after what happened with the daleks and you almost regenerating and stuff, everyone has been looking out for you. Sarah Jane and Captain Jack especially. Sarah Jane has Mr. Smith and Jack has all the rift monitoring equipment and the TARDIS isn't exactly quiet, is she?"

"She's damaged so probably more noisy."

"They've picked up the temporal wake and know you're here. They both phoned. I tried to tell them to leave it but, they are both on their way. They know you've broken your leg. I had to tell them something because I think they were worried the world was about to end. I've not told them how you did it or explained the extent of your injury. I can if you want, if you don', I won't. That is up to you. I think they will both be pretty keen to help look after you, and while that will be good for you to have that companionship and support over the coming weeks, I know that right now you are probably too worn out and sore to want much company. Do you want me to turn them away and tell them to come back tomorrow? At least after you've had a good night's sleep."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

"You will." Martha patted his drip. "I'll give you something to help you rest and sleep tonight if it is too hard. I could give you it now if you want, but it is only earl;y afternoon and I don't want you to be awake too much through the night. Do you want to have a visit with Jack and Sarah Jane? Jack is bringing some lunch. There is a nice Chinese around the corner and he's calling in there for their buffet style lunch. He'll probably have far too much food when he gets here, but it is tasty. You can do that, or you can just rest quietly, once we get you into the other side there'll be a TV and things so it won't be as dull, or you can try to go to sleep."

"Okay."

"Which do you want to do?" Martha checked. "If Jack and Sarah Jane do come in then I will be chucking them out after a couple of hours. They're not going to be hanging round all day. You do need to rest."

"I'll see Jack and Sarah Jane. I don't want you to turn them away if they are coming. It is a long way. Especially for Jack."

"For the next couple of days you need to think about what you want and not what anyone else wants," Martha advised the Doctor. "If you would rather just rest quietly then you should. The priority needs to be to do what makes you feel better."

"If you send them away I'll feel worse."

"That isn't if I see them for a couple of hours for lunch I'll feel better, though, is it Doctor?"

"I don't want you to send them away."

"Okay." Martha kissed him on the forehead and he made a face. She laughed and apologised. Gerald came in with a new ice pack for him and she encouraged the Doctor to keep it against the swelling on the side of his face. "You've got to look your best now you're having visitors."

"I think a black eye is the least of my worries."

"You're probably right. Do you want me to tell them the extent of your injuries?"

"If you don't they'll find out eventually and want to know why I didn't say."

"Okay, I will tell them, but let them know you don't really want to discuss it?"

"Yeah."

"We are going to have to talk about it in detail at some point, Doctor," Martha warned him.

"Not just now? Please?"

"Alright, I'll take them into the assessment room first and show them your X-rays and talk about what we're doing for you. Then they can come and see you for and we'll have some lunch.

"I don't know if I'll be hungry."

"If you're not then you don't have to eat anything."

"I feel a bit nauseous."

"Do you feel like you're going to be sick, or do you just feel a bit queasy with the drugs and the high volume of biscuits I know you scoffed?" Martha checked with him.

"Just queasy."

"Let me know if it gets worse and you want me to give you something to calm your stomach."

"Then I'll get a headache," he grumbled and Martha rolled her eyes at him. She would look after him and give him some leeway but she wasn't going to pander to him. "Try and have something to eat when Jack and Sarah Jane get here."

"Will there be pepper ribs?" the Doctor asked. "I like them."

"I will text Jack and make sure he picks some up."

It was half an hour before Martha received a call over the intercom to contact the main base Gatehouse. It was an indication that either Jack or Sarah Jane had arrived on site. "Doctor?" she was sat by his bedside just quietly monitoring him to make sure he remained stable. His pain levels weren't settled yet and she'd put his Bladamine up to 5mls an hour. It was close to his maximum level, but he seemed to have periods of a few minutes intense pain every ten minutes or so and she didn't think the drugs were going to cope with that at all. He would lose all his composure, grimace or cry out as the pain became too much for him to continue being brave. Martha knew there was little that she could do for now, she believed it was a nerve generated pain rather than due to the bony injuries he had so she thought she might have to look at giving him something on top of the Bladamine. She just wasn't entirely sure what would be suitable for him.

"That is going to be Sarah Jane or Jack arriving," she advised as the Doctor listened to the intercom. "This is your last chance? I can send them away to come back tomorrow or in a couple of days if you want just to carry on resting quietly?"

"No, s'okay." The Doctor sounded exhausted. Once Martha had thought, hoped, that he had drifted off into an uneasy sleep but he'd soon been wincing and grimacing as the pain beat him into full awareness again. It was going to be a difficult few days while they waited for him to be operated on.

"If you still want your pepper ribs I can go and pinch them off Jack, let them know what you've done to yourself, and then they can come back tomorrow?"

"No, it's okay."

"I will be kicking them out after a couple of hours, so don't think they are going to be camping out here all day with you? Then when they've gone we'll probably be ready to move you into the East Wing."

"Can you kick them out after an hour?" the Doctor asked a little sheepishly as if it was a reasonable compromise.

"I'll do that, and, if it gets too much you just give me the nod and I'll get rid of them early. I'll take them down into the assessment room first and talk them through your injury and what the treatment is going to be. Then I'll bring them up to you. Gerald will come back and sit with you for now," Martha offered. "So, if you want anything then you just let him know."

The Doctor nodded and sighed. Gerald went in and sat with him, while Martha went through to talk to main office to call the Gatehouse and then into the assessment room to receive Jack and Sarah Jane when they arrived. Martha knew that the Doctor didn't really want to be visited, but had accepted out of a sense of obligation. It indicated how tired and vulnerable he was feeling. In normal circumstances he'd have had no qualms about sending someone away, or, running if he didn't really want to speak to them.

She also fully understood the need for Sarah Jane and Jack to see him, especially if he was hurt. She was slightly annoyed that neither of them had taken the hint that she didn't want them to come straight down. She'd not wanted to let them know how seriously the Doctor was hurt until she'd got his consent to do so. She had intended to discuss it with him because he was going to need care and support beyond his stay in hospital while he recovered and recuperated. His human friends would provide that, but they had forced her hand. She was perfectly content to turn them away, but the Doctor hadn't wanted that, even though it was for their benefit not his own.

Martha contacted the Gatehouse and they confirmed both Sarah Jane and Jack had arrived and were being shown to the medical bay. As UNIT was a military base and certain clearances were required to enter, but the medical facilities were sometimes utilised during serious incidents as local emergency over flow there was a civilian route to the medical bay and it was by this route that both Sarah Jane and Jack would be brought meaning they didn't have to get full clearance from the base commander, just log their presence on base.

She put the kettle on in the assessment room which also served as a relatives' room. She guessed that Sarah Jane and Jack were about as close to relatives as the Doctor had so it was appropriate for it. Two soldiers escorted Sarah Jane and Jack into the room. Jack had two bags that seemed to be stuffed with food in cardboard trays with metal lids. He also had a bottle of wine and Martha wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. Did he think he was going to be having a party?

"Martha!" Jack rushed forward and gave her a hug. He almost lifted her right up off the ground. If he'd not had the food then he would have done. It seemed as if it was months since she'd seen him, but he'd visited only a couple of weekends previously.

"Hi Jack." Martha couldn't deny that it was good to see him. She hugged him and then she hugged Sarah Jane.

"So, where's the klutz then?" Jack asked.

"He's resting in the treatment room for now. We'll move him round to the East Wing in a little while. It will be shut it off for him so he can get some peace and quiet. So, don't you just go bowling in on him."

"Has he run anyone over yet?" Jack asked.

"Run anyone over?"

"Wheelchair races? Or is he on crutches already? He'll bounce back," Jack suggested.

"You did hear me tell you he'd broken his leg didn't you?" Martha checked with Jack.

"Yeah, I bet he's not happy, but we'll have Chinese, draw some faces on his cast, and cheer him up," Jack offered. "He'll be fine. I called Ianto, if he wants to come back with me to rest for a couple of days then it's good."

"He's not just going to be cast up for a couple of weeks, Jack." Martha advised. "I checked with him and he doesn't mind me telling you what he has done to himself, but, he isn't aware of the finer details yet. He doesn't want to know just now."

"How seriously is he hurt?" Sarah Jane asked Martha sensing there was more to it than the simple break she imagined had led the Doctor to Martha for treatment.

"Why don't both of you have a seat and we'll go through it. He's not just cracked his fibula if that is what you're thinking. He's fallen around 25 feet and his right leg took the full impact. He also dropped directly onto the bottom rungs of a ladder which then slammed shut onto his leg. I have the footage from the TARDIS because we needed to see how it had happened so we can get a good idea on how to fix it. He will be going into surgery when the swelling has reduced to do some stabilisation and reconstruction work. Until then and for a few days afterwards he's not going to be getting out of bed at all. He certainly won't be having wheelchair races or be swinging around on crutches."

"He's really broken it then?" Jack checked. "What are you talking? Tibia and fibula?"

"I'll show you the images in a moment. I just want you to bear in mind that he is in a lot of pain, he's had a really hard day so far and he's exhausted. I don't think he should really visitors today, but he has told me not to send you away."

"You'd not send me away!" Jack scoffed.

"No, probably now, but I'd stop you from seeing him," Martha told him firmly. "Right now the Doctor is my priority and my patient. He's allowing me to include you in this but that is the reason why I am doing so. I just want you both to be clear that he comes first, at least until he's been stabilised and is more comfortable."

"Of course he does." Sarah Jane nodded. Martha looked at Jack and he nodded, though he looked pretty concerned about how serious the injury was if Martha was setting ground rules immediately.

"So is it his tibia and his fibula?" Jack knew it was more serious than he expected. When Martha had said he'd arrived with a broken leg he thought she'd cast him up and have to tie him up to keep him down long enough to let the plaster dry. "And you said he's having surgery? Are you going to pin him?"

"We've got the orthopaedic team working on the best way to stabilise him," Martha advised. "It is a nasty injury." They were in the assessment room where she had discussed the injury with James, but the boards had been powered down. They were still live with the images of the Doctor's leg though, so she powered them up, forgetting for a moment that it was not only the X-rays up on the boards but also photographs. She'd not intended for there to be the shock factor of seeing the photograph of the Doctor's mangled leg.

"Oh my God, is that his leg?!" Sarah Jane knew it was because she could see brown pinstriped material cut away from it.

"Jesus." Jack got up to have a closer look at the photograph with a morbid fascination while Sarah Jane had to look away.

"We don't think there is anything we can't fix." Martha started with the most positive aspect. She wished she'd checked there was no photograph because while Jack was turning it on its side, familiar with the touchscreen technologies in use, Sarah Jane was quite pale. "That photograph was taken in the TARDIS before any reduction. I had to restore the blood flow to his foot immediately so did as soon as I could give him some pain relief. He was then transported here and we took the full series of X-rays and scans to reveal the extent of the injuries he has."

"Are these all him?" Jack looked at the images up on display.

"Yep. You can see he has a hairline fracture to the distal head of his femur. His patella is fractured and there is a fracture through the proximal head of his tibia. His knee was significantly displaced with a serious dislocation which has involved the medial and cruciate ligaments. We've since reduced it to a reasonable position. He has mid shaft spiral tibia and fibula fractures. The tibia fracture is comminuted and there are two free fragments so is highly unstable. He also has distal tibia and fibula fractures with a full ankle dislocation, as well as a broken heel bone and three broken bones in his foot."

"Shit."

"Yeah," Martha agreed Jack's sentiment. "We've reduced him as far as we can without surgical intervention and he is cast. He's not as comfortable as I would like. He's receiving IV pain relief but it needs adjusting. It's not effectively managing his pain levels and the events of the day are making him feel nauseous. He's understandably worried about his leg and how he is going to heal. I think he'll heal well, but he was on his own in the TARDIS and he had to get out of the ladder to take the handbrake off to seek assistance. His leg fractures are highly unstable, so he's had a pretty traumatic morning. In addition, he burns through pain relief so quickly that the hefty dose of ketamine I gave him in order to perform the temporary reductions didn't last. He was awake by the time we were positioning him for casting and it was horrific for him. He ended up passing out and it triggered his respiratory bypass for a moment, due to the amount of pain he was enduring. He's had a hard time."

"It must have been hard for you too," Sarah Jane knew Martha wouldn't have enjoying hurting him. "Do you want us to go?"

"Not now you're here. He wants some pepper ribs, but I don't want you to stay for more than an hour. He needs to rest and I'll need to do some work with him to get his drugs right so he can get more comfortable. I expect I'll end up giving him some sedation through the IV so he can sleep. He's in a lot of pain, he's pretty scared, and he's had a mighty shock, both emotionally and physically."

"And he doesn't know how bad his leg is yet?"

"I think he does know because he's seen it and he had to move and he described it as being floppy. I'm hoping when he's had some rest and an opportunity to calm down and come to terms a little with what has happened then he'll be in a better position to start thinking about it rationally. He was worried the fractures were open and he was worried I was going to chop his foot off and he was worried he'd have to regenerate. He knows he dislocated his knee, broke his leg, and dislocated his ankle."

"That is frightening enough without complicating fractures," Jack realised.

"For now I don't want him to be told anything more specific. I'll aim to have a conversation with him tomorrow some time. At least now he's cast and straight. He has looked at the case and seems more content. He's in a full long leg cast at the moment so at some point I'll have to split it to allow for additional swelling, but that'll be the last difficult thing we need to do prior to the surgery."

"He will be okay won't he?" Sarah Jane asked.

"Providing we're able to stabilise him effectively and he heals well. He should make a decent enough recovery. I'm not sure his leg will ever get to the same kind of strength and condition prior to this, but I don't think there'll be anything that'll stop him going off in the TARDIS and living his life. It all depends on how we stabilise him, how he heals, and how compliant he is with his recovery. He's not going to be able to put any weight on his leg for weeks. If he starts jumping around within the next couple of days it's going to be harder and longer, so, when he's been stabilised and can be discharge. I think that is where you'll have to a play a more significant role because he's going to need a long time to recover, recuperate, and rehabilitate after this."

"How long will it take?"

"That's an impossible question to answer at the moment, but I don't see him being TARDIS fit for four to six months, if not longer. Certainly for the first couple of months he is going to need assistance because he's not going to be able to stand on his leg. It all depends on how he heals. He has suggested that Time Lords heal fractures relatively slowly compared to other injuries but that it is still faster than a human rate of recovery. I need to have a more in depth conversation with him about that when he is more comfortable." Martha advised them both. "So, that is where we are at the moment. Do you want to come through? If he has managed to go off to sleep then he's not to be woken. If he hasn't then you've got an hour with him to start with."

When they had both arrived Sarah Jane and Jack had both been commenting on how annoyed the Doctor was going to be and how difficult he was going to be to look after if he'd broken his leg. They'd laughed about him being a nightmare and driving everyone at UNIT mad with his desires to get up and go off in the TARDIS with his leg in plaster. One look at the photograph of his injury had brought a level of horror to their visit that they'd really not expected or contemplated. It was the Doctor. He wasn't going to be seriously hurt. Their amiable amusement that their beloved Time Lord was going to be wreaking havoc in a wheelchair or on crutches and their intention to take the chronic mickey out of him for doing something as daft as break a leg was replaced with a subdued concern for him. He'd actually really hurt himself.

Martha led the way down to treatment room Alpha where the Doctor was resting. She wanted to get him moved into the East Wing as soon as possible so there would be some distraction for him. He'd have remote access to the library data banks, to a wide range of digital music recordings, and full cable TV along with internet streaming from a wide DVD database. She doubted it would be enough to keep him entertained for long, but it would be better than just lying on a treatment bed looking at white washed walls and medical equipment. The East Wing was furnished in a more homely style for patients going to be there for a while but were not in critical need of constant medical observation. There were several rooms with on suite facilities, a little kitchenette area, and a common room with different things, including a pool table though he'd not be getting up to play pool for some considerable time yet.

"Just stay here and I'll make sure he's not asleep." Martha went into the room ahead of Jack and Martha. Gerald was sitting by his bed and he stood when Martha came in just in case the people with her had the same degree of formality as the military staff. The Doctor had managed to wrangle a second cup of tea from somewhere. The head of the bed was raised slightly so he could drink without a straw. He was so pale and she could tell that he was tense and uncomfortable by the way that he was lying, so he wasn't doing much better at all yet.

"Are they here?" the Doctor asked quietly.

"Yeah, I've told them they have to behave." Martha smiled sympathetically at him. "Are you sure you don't just want me to tell them to come back later?"

"I'm sure," the Doctor confirmed. Martha poked her head back out of the door and waved Jack and Sarah Jane in. They both entered not entirely sure what they were going to be greeted with, other than knowing that the Time Lord was seriously hurt.

"Oh, Doctor, look at your face?" Sarah Jane was appalled.

"Well, that is charming."

Martha hadn't mentioned anything about the deep bruising and swelling all down the left side of his face. His eye had swollen shut and the lid was shiny and fat with deep purple and blue blood. His cheek bone was swollen and a redder purple where the bruising was still developing.

"Ah, yes, he's got a touch of facial bruising." Martha winced and gave Jack and Sarah Jane both an apologetic look. It wasn't serious, but against the pallid complexion of the other side of his face it looked dramatic and she'd forgot to tell them, as her concern had been rightly concentrated on his leg injuries. "And a few stitches in his head, but no concussion and no facial fractures."

"Eleven stitches." Gerald confirmed to Martha. He'd written it up on the Doctor's file notes but not told her yet.

"How are you feeling?" Sarah Jane went and took the Doctor's hand. "I can't believe you've broken your leg. Is it really painful still?"

"Yeah." The Doctor sighed. "It hurts a lot."

"We're still working on getting the dose of drugs right," Martha reminded them.

"You did all this falling off a ladder?" Jack checked with the Time Lord. The Doctor nodded. He took in the way that the Doctor was lying with the long cast of his leg elevated up so his foot was almost two feet above the level of the mattress. The cast was long and white and sleek and had been formed out the heavy Plaster of Paris rather than the more lightweight fibreglass alternatives that he was sure UNIT had readily available. He was wearing a white T-shirt that had a UNIT medical motif on the right side of the chest so that was borrowed. There was a sheet folded over him from his abdomen and over his uncast leg so he didn't know what else he was wearing. "You daft bloody sod."

"I know."

"So, are we going to have something to eat?" Jack sat by his bed. "Hopefully it hasn't got too cold while we've been looking at your X-rays."

"Gerald, would you mind getting some plates from the mess?" Martha checked.

"Hello, by the way." Jack extended his hand towards the young medic. "Captain Jack Harkness." He introduced himself.

"Jack…" the Doctor grumbled. "Leave him alone."

"What? He's one of your medical team. I've got to say hello at least don't I?" Jack shook the junior medic's hand. "And what is your name?"

"Private Gerald Sutherland, Sir, Junior Medical Officer."

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you." Jack offered. "Bring yourself a plate as well and you can join us."

"I have duties to undertake, Sir, but thank you." Gerald didn't want to impose and he wasn't sure what Martha would think. He fetched the plates for them and then took the treatment trolley out so they had more room to move in the smaller room. He advised Martha that he was going to replenish what had been used to cast the Doctor's leg. It needed doing, so she let him go, though she would make sure he knew neither Jack or Sarah Jane would mind him being there. She wanted the Doctor to build a relationship with him, because there would be times when she couldn't be with him and at most of those times Gerald would be.

Jack and Martha cleared the top of the treatment bench in the room and checked what Chinese dishes had been given. He'd just asked for a full selection of the buffet and then some additional pepper ribs for the Doctor. Martha thought there was enough food for a whole platoon.

"It looks like Jack has tonnes of food," Sarah Jane commented as she took the seat by the Doctor's bedside. "I hope you're hungry?"

"Not really. I'll try to eat something but I'm feeling a bit sick."

"Maybe eating something will help," Sarah Jane offered.

"It might. It smells good."

"Martha said you're going to have surgery on your leg in a couple of days or so?"

"When the swelling goes down," the Doctor confirmed.

"At least you've got Martha to look after you." Sarah Jane wasn't quite sure what to say. He looked tired and he was quiet and subdued. "I'll bring Luke in to meet you properly while you're here." She suggested. "He's been dying to meet you. He's at school today or I might've brought him with me. Maybe I could bring him in a couple of days?"

"Okay," the Doctor agreed quietly. "You still owe me that story."

"Yeah, I do." Sarah Jane confirmed. "I can tell you after lunch if…" Sarah Jane paused as the Doctor grimaced. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and gasped and then groaned as waves of pain originated in his leg. It felt like someone was spearing him with red hot spears and then twisting them right through the middle of his leg. "Martha?" Sarah Jane got the medic's attention as she was helping Jack dish up their lunch.

"Take deep breaths, Doctor." Martha went straight to him. She took his hand and held it tightly as the Time Lord clenched her hand. He keened and cried out. "Deep breaths." Martha encouraged him again. "It will pass, breathe in through your nose to make use of the oxygen, Doctor."

Jack and Sarah Jane watched in dismay as pain undid the Doctor's composure completely. He was groaning and moaning with it, tears spilled from the corners of his tightly shut eyes, and he could barely breathe. Martha adjusted the painkillers in his drip up again but they weren't touching the cyclical pain she was sure had to be due to nerve damage. She thought about getting James back down to discuss the options, but really there were none. He just couldn't deal with the level of pain he was in when it hit him like this. The more it kept happening the more tired he got and the worse it affected him.

"Martha?" the Doctor bleated eventually as it started to calm down and he could get enough air to complain.

"I'm going to call James back down," Martha advised. "Do you know if there is anything you can take which will block neurological pain?" She asked him. "You must have a damaged nerve in there somewhere."

"Do you want us to go?" Sarah Jane asked.

"No…" the Doctor gasped as the tail end of what felt like a full scale attack lingered. "It's going off." He sighed heavily. For a few minutes after the horrific increase in pain his leg didn't feel as bad. It didn't take him long to forget how bad it had been and for the gnawing, throbbing, aching pain of the general injury to come back to the forefront of his mind, but that at least was tolerable even if it was wearing him down second by second.

"What was that?" Sarah Jane checked when it was clear the Doctor was relaxing as the pain was easing.

"A nerve generated pain. It seems to come six or seven times an hour. We need to look at putting some kind of nerve block in or using a drug suitable for neurological pain. Anything I have in my arsenal would take a sometime to build up and to be effective and have significant side effects," Martha offered. "I'll get my orthopaedic specialist down to see if we can determine the best way to manage the pain. I am sure once the surgery has been completed and the fractures are stabilised completely there won't be as much of an issue. It just hurts him significantly and there isn't much I can do to stop it." Martha stroked the Doctor's forearm as he breathed deeply, consciously drawing oxygen from the line through his nose then exhaling through his mouth.

"It's gone…" the Doctor acknowledged.

"But that is going to happen again in ten minutes or so?" Jack checked he understood.

"Yeah," the Doctor confirmed. "I think it's getting worse," he added and Martha nodded her concurrence. Jack sighed heavily, no wonder he sounded so miserable.

"It keeps happening," Martha confirmed.

"Perhaps we should go so you can get on." Jack realised they'd come in and were interfering with work Martha still had to do in order to get the Doctor comfortable and stable.

"No, it's okay. Don't go yet. When it's stopped it's not as bad," the Doctor assured them.

"Let's have something to eat and then we'll have a look." Martha commented. She knew they wouldn't go down the line of surgical intervention for an intermittent neurological pain when he was so swollen, they'd either manage it with drugs, or, unfortunately assist him to endure it, so it would be alright for the Doctor to eat if he was able to. She hoped it would make him feel better and more settled.

Jack finished dishing the food up. Martha pulled a bed table over for the Doctor to eat, but when Jack put a plate with a mountain of food topped with ribs the Doctor looked at it and felt ill. Martha took it back and just gave him a couple of ribs to start with to see if how he felt after chewing on them.

They ate and talked. Jack told the Doctor about the latest incidents they'd had in Torchwood and they asked the Doctor where he had been off to and what he had been doing, but he wasn't too forthcoming with that and Martha sensed there was more to his story. She'd work to get to the bottom of it. She knew he'd been involved with UNIT briefly as she'd been briefed by Captain Magumbo about the meeting she'd had with him and a flying London bus. It amused Martha, but she'd been in the process of transferring back from New York to the UK so she'd missed him.

They ate and had tea and coffee, but then Jack and Sarah Jane left. Not before ensuring the Doctor knew they were both going to be local in case he needed anything. Martha suggested there would be an evening visiting period at around 19.00hrs and they could come back then. Sarah Jane could tell it wouldn't be fair for the Doctor to be introduced to Luke yet and have the teenager bombard him with questions so she'd not be back until morning, but Jack assured him he'd come back and see how he was doing. If he was asleep and didn't want to be visited then he'd just visit Martha instead.


	8. Chapter 8

"Private Lane?" She addressed the young soldier driving her back from the warehouse back to the medical bay.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Once you have dropped me off, could you please report to the front Gatehouse and advised them that a Miss Sarah Jane Smith and a Captain Jack Harkness will be arriving on site."

"Yes Ma'am."

"When they arrive they are to be escorted via civilian routes to the medical bay and be brought to my attention."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Thank you, Private." Martha got out the jeep and went straight back to the Doctor's room. The Doctor was lying on his bed with his head back and his eyes closed. She could tell he wasn't asleep though.

"How are you doing?" Martha pulled a chair up to the side of his bed. She didn't sit down straight away but pulled the pillow straight a bit where it had got rucked up. The bruising developing on the Doctor's face was becoming more and more harsh against his pallid complexion.

"My leg hurts, Martha." He sounded worn out and exhausted, but she wasn't surprised.

"Let's see how it is if we take the Bladamine up higher." Martha adjusted the drip flow rate. "You've got plenty of Bladamine in there. Does your leg feel better now it is cast?"

"I think so."

"Give the new level of drugs a few minutes to see how it feels then."

"It can't be too high or I'll feel dopey and nauseous."

"I know," Martha accepted. "Unfortunately, it may be the lesser of two evils. If you do feel sick with the drugs we can give you something on top to stop you feeling sick. I wouldn't feel worried about being dopey or drowsy for a while. You need to rest. Where's your ice pack? Has it melted?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get Gerald to fetch another one. Your face is looking pretty sore."

"It's not bothering me. Except, I can't see out my left eye it's so swollen."

"It looks nasty. We'll keep using the ice." Martha smiled sympathetically. "Do you want to see the X-rays we took?" Martha asked him.

"Of my leg?"

"Yeah, there isn't anything to see on the ones of your head and face."

"I don't want to see my leg."

"Why?" Martha asked curiously. "Don't you want to see what you've done?"

"No… it's so bent… it's bad. Isn't it?"

"Like James said, it is serious but there isn't anything we don't think we can fix. We just have to be a bit adaptive because anything we put in we have to take out, but you're leg isn't bent now. We're not going to achieve perfect alignment until we've surgically stabilised you, but you're not bent. Have you not looked at the cast?"

"Not really."

"Doctor, if you look at the cast you'll see you're nice and straight." Martha could tell he was feeling worried and scared. "I think you just need to face up to it a bit." After what he had done to get his leg out of the ladder she was not surprised he was anxious. "Oi." Martha took his hand and caressed his head. "You're going to be okay. I am disappointed you've not looked at my handiwork."

"I'm sure you've done a good job."

"I have, Doctor, and I will." Martha leant over and very carefully hugged him. She didn't expect much of response from him, but not only did he hug her back, he clung to her. "I'm sorry it was so horrible and you're hurting so much. It's going to be sore, but in a few days, once we've operated. You're going to be feeling much better. Then I expect I'll have a hard job keeping you down long enough. I do think you'll feel better if you have a look at your cast. You'll see it is neat and straight. You're leg isn't hanging off and it isn't bent."

"Okay." The Doctor looked down at the cast. It was long and white and his toes were sticking out of the end of it. The plaster on the sole of his foot extended up past the end of his toes so he'd not be able to wriggle them. She'd only have done that if he'd broken bones in his foot. They were pointing upwards though. That was good. It scared him when all of his leg seemed to be going the wrong way. He'd never experienced pain like it and it hadn't stopped. He did feel a bit better. The cast was good. It was smooth and skilled and he could see it had been moulded well, but it wasn't split and it wasn't just a back slab. He was still going to swell inside it.

"It looks more like a leg again doesn't it?" Martha squeezed his hand when he nodded.

"Is it going to get too tight?"

"Yes, and we'll monitor for that. When it does we'll split the cast, but we wanted you to calm down and rest before we do. We've a few hours before we'll need to split it. We may get away with it until tomorrow, but I'll be staying tonight so if the cast does need to be split I'll be here to do it straight away."

"You're staying here?"

"Yeah."

"Do you normally?"

"I don't live here, Doctor."

"So you're staying for me?"

"Yeah, to make sure you behave."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. We do have a bit of a problem though."

"With my leg?"

"No, not with your leg. It's just, I know how tired you must be feeling and I want you to rest. We're planning on moving you to the other side of the unit once the patient there is discharged and it's been cleaned out. The problem is that after what happened with the daleks and you almost regenerating and stuff, everyone has been looking out for you. Sarah Jane and Captain Jack especially. Sarah Jane has Mr. Smith and Jack has all the rift monitoring equipment and the TARDIS isn't exactly quiet, is she?"

"She's damaged so probably noisier."

"They've picked up the temporal wake and know you're here. They both phoned. I tried to tell them to leave it but, they are both on their way. They know you've broken your leg. I had to tell them something because I think they were worried the world was about to end. I've not told them how you did it or explained the extent of your injury. I can if you want, if you don', I won't. That is up to you. I think they will both be pretty keen to help look after you, and while that will be good for you to have that companionship and support over the coming weeks, I know that right now you are probably too worn out and sore to want much company. Do you want me to turn them away and tell them to come back tomorrow? At least after you've had a good night's sleep."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

"You will." Martha patted his drip. "I'll give you something to help you rest and sleep tonight if it is too hard. I could give you it now if you want, but it is only earl;y afternoon and I don't want you to be awake too much through the night. Do you want to have a visit with Jack and Sarah Jane? Jack is bringing some lunch. There is a nice Chinese around the corner and he's calling in there for their buffet style lunch. He'll probably have far too much food when he gets here, but it is tasty. You can do that, or you can just rest quietly, once we get you into the other side there'll be a TV and things so it won't be as dull, or you can try to go to sleep."

"Okay."

"Which do you want to do?" Martha checked. "If Jack and Sarah Jane do come in then I will be chucking them out after a couple of hours. They're not going to be hanging round all day. You do need to rest."

"I'll see Jack and Sarah Jane. I don't want you to turn them away if they are coming. It is a long way. Especially for Jack."

"For the next couple of days you need to think about what you want and not what anyone else wants," Martha advised the Doctor. "If you would rather just rest quietly then you should. The priority needs to be to do what makes you feel better."

"If you send them away I'll feel worse."

"That isn't if I see them for a couple of hours for lunch I'll feel better, though, is it Doctor?"

"I don't want you to send them away."

"Okay." Martha kissed him on the forehead and he made a face. She laughed and apologised. Gerald came in with a new ice pack for him and she encouraged the Doctor to keep it against the swelling on the side of his face. "You've got to look your best now you're having visitors."

"I think a black eye is the least of my worries."

"You're probably right. Do you want me to tell them the extent of your injuries?"

"If you don't they'll find out eventually and want to know why I didn't say."

"Okay, I will tell them, but let them know you don't really want to discuss it?"

"Yeah."

"We are going to have to talk about it in detail at some point, Doctor," Martha warned him.

"Not just now? Please?"

"Alright, I'll take them into the assessment room first and show them your X-rays and talk about what we're doing for you. Then they can come and see you for and we'll have some lunch.

"I don't know if I'll be hungry."

"If you're not then you don't have to eat anything."

"I feel a bit nauseous."

"Do you feel like you're going to be sick, or do you just feel a bit queasy with the drugs and the high volume of biscuits I know you scoffed?" Martha checked with him.

"Just queasy."

"Let me know if it gets worse and you want me to give you something to calm your stomach."

"Then I'll get a headache," he grumbled and Martha rolled her eyes at him. She would look after him and give him some leeway but she wasn't going to pander to him. "Try and have something to eat when Jack and Sarah Jane get here."

"Will there be pepper ribs?" the Doctor asked. "I like them."

"I will text Jack and make sure he picks some up."

It was half an hour before Martha received a call over the intercom to contact the main base Gatehouse. It was an indication that either Jack or Sarah Jane had arrived on site. "Doctor?" she was sat by his bedside just quietly monitoring him to make sure he remained stable. His pain levels weren't settled yet and she'd put his Bladamine up to 5mls an hour. It was close to his maximum level, but he seemed to have periods of a few minutes intense pain every ten minutes or so and she didn't think the drugs were going to cope with that at all. He would lose all his composure, grimace or cry out as the pain became too much for him to continue being brave. Martha knew there was little that she could do for now, she believed it was a nerve generated pain rather than due to the bony injuries he had so she thought she might have to look at giving him something on top of the Bladamine. She just wasn't entirely sure what would be suitable for him.

"That is going to be Sarah Jane or Jack arriving," she advised as the Doctor listened to the intercom. "This is your last chance? I can send them away to come back tomorrow or in a couple of days if you want just to carry on resting quietly?"

"No, s'okay." The Doctor sounded exhausted. Once Martha had thought, hoped, that he had drifted off into an uneasy sleep but he'd soon been wincing and grimacing as the pain beat him into full awareness again. It was going to be a difficult few days while they waited for him to be operated on.

"If you still want your pepper ribs I can go and pinch them off Jack, let them know what you've done to yourself, and then they can come back tomorrow?"

"No, it's okay."

"I will be kicking them out after a couple of hours, so don't think they are going to be camping out here all day with you? Then when they've gone we'll probably be ready to move you into the East Wing."

"Can you kick them out after an hour?" the Doctor asked a little sheepishly as if it was a reasonable compromise.

"I'll do that, and, if it gets too much you just give me the nod and I'll get rid of them early. I'll take them down into the assessment room first and talk them through your injury and what the treatment is going to be. Then I'll bring them up to you. Gerald will come back and sit with you for now," Martha offered. "So, if you want anything then you just let him know."

The Doctor nodded and sighed. Gerald went in and sat with him, while Martha went through to talk to main office to call the Gatehouse and then into the assessment room to receive Jack and Sarah Jane when they arrived. Martha knew that the Doctor didn't really want to be visited, but had accepted out of a sense of obligation. It indicated how tired and vulnerable he was feeling. In normal circumstances he'd have had no qualms about sending someone away, or, running if he didn't really want to speak to them.

She also fully understood the need for Sarah Jane and Jack to see him, especially if he was hurt. She was slightly annoyed that neither of them had taken the hint that she didn't want them to come straight down. She'd not wanted to let them know how seriously the Doctor was hurt until she'd got his consent to do so. She had intended to discuss it with him because he was going to need care and support beyond his stay in hospital while he recovered and recuperated. His human friends would provide that, but they had forced her hand. She was perfectly content to turn them away, but the Doctor hadn't wanted that, even though it was for their benefit not his own.

Martha contacted the Gatehouse and they confirmed both Sarah Jane and Jack had arrived and were being shown to the medical bay. As UNIT was a military base and certain clearances were required to enter, but the medical facilities were sometimes utilised during serious incidents as local emergency over flow there was a civilian route to the medical bay and it was by this route that both Sarah Jane and Jack would be brought meaning they didn't have to get full clearance from the base commander, just log their presence on base.

She put the kettle on in the assessment room which also served as a relatives' room. She guessed that Sarah Jane and Jack were about as close to relatives as the Doctor had so it was appropriate for it. Two soldiers escorted Sarah Jane and Jack into the room. Jack had two bags that seemed to be stuffed with food in cardboard trays with metal lids. He also had a bottle of wine and Martha wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. Did he think he was going to be having a party?

"Martha!" Jack rushed forward and gave her a hug. He almost lifted her right up off the ground. If he'd not had the food then he would have done. It seemed as if it was months since she'd seen him, but he'd visited only a couple of weekends previously.

"Hi Jack." Martha couldn't deny that it was good to see him. She hugged him and then she hugged Sarah Jane.

"So, where's the klutz then?" Jack asked.

"He's resting in the treatment room for now. We'll move him round to the East Wing in a little while. It will be shut it off for him so he can get some peace and quiet. So, don't you just go bowling in on him."

"Has he run anyone over yet?" Jack asked.

"Run anyone over?"

"Wheelchair races? Or is he on crutches already? He'll bounce back," Jack suggested.

"You did hear me tell you he'd broken his leg didn't you?" Martha checked with Jack.

"Yeah, I bet he's not happy, but we'll have Chinese, draw some faces on his cast, and cheer him up," Jack offered. "He'll be fine. I called Ianto, if he wants to come back with me to rest for a couple of days then it's good."

"He's not just going to be cast up for a couple of weeks, Jack." Martha advised. "I checked with him and he doesn't mind me telling you what he has done to himself, but, he isn't aware of the finer details yet. He doesn't want to know just now."

"How seriously is he hurt?" Sarah Jane asked Martha sensing there was more to it than the simple break she imagined had led the Doctor to Martha for treatment.

"Why don't both of you have a seat and we'll go through it. He's not just cracked his fibula if that is what you're thinking. He's fallen around 25 feet and his right leg took the full impact. He also dropped directly onto the bottom rungs of a ladder which then slammed shut onto his leg. I have the footage from the TARDIS because we needed to see how it had happened so we can get a good idea on how to fix it. He will be going into surgery when the swelling has reduced to do some stabilisation and reconstruction work. Until then and for a few days afterwards he's not going to be getting out of bed at all. He certainly won't be having wheelchair races or be swinging around on crutches."

"He's really broken it then?" Jack checked. "What are you talking? Tibia and fibula?"

"I'll show you the images in a moment. I just want you to bear in mind that he is in a lot of pain, he's had a really hard day so far and he's exhausted. I don't think he should really visitors today, but he has told me not to send you away."

"You'd not send me away!" Jack scoffed.

"No, probably now, but I'd stop you from seeing him," Martha told him firmly. "Right now the Doctor is my priority and my patient. He's allowing me to include you in this but that is the reason why I am doing so. I just want you both to be clear that he comes first, at least until he's been stabilised and is more comfortable."

"Of course he does." Sarah Jane nodded. Martha looked at Jack and he nodded, though he looked pretty concerned about how serious the injury was if Martha was setting ground rules immediately.

"So is it his tibia and his fibula?" Jack knew it was more serious than he expected. When Martha had said he'd arrived with a broken leg he thought she'd cast him up and have to tie him up to keep him down long enough to let the plaster dry. "And you said he's having surgery? Are you going to pin him?"

"We've got the orthopaedic team working on the best way to stabilise him," Martha advised. "It is a nasty injury." They were in the assessment room where she had discussed the injury with James, but the boards had been powered down. They were still live with the images of the Doctor's leg though, so she powered them up, forgetting for a moment that it was not only the X-rays up on the boards but also photographs. She'd not intended for there to be the shock factor of seeing the photograph of the Doctor's mangled leg.

"Oh my God, is that his leg?!" Sarah Jane knew it was because she could see brown pinstriped material cut away from it.

"Jesus." Jack got up to have a closer look at the photograph with a morbid fascination while Sarah Jane had to look away.

"We don't think there is anything we can't fix." Martha started with the most positive aspect. She wished she'd checked there was no photograph because while Jack was turning it on its side, familiar with the touchscreen technologies in use, Sarah Jane was quite pale. "That photograph was taken in the TARDIS before any reduction. I had to restore the blood flow to his foot immediately so did as soon as I could give him some pain relief. He was then transported here and we took the full series of X-rays and scans to reveal the extent of the injuries he has."

"Are these all him?" Jack looked at the images up on display.

"Yep. You can see he has a hairline fracture to the distal head of his femur. His patella is fractured and there is a fracture through the proximal head of his tibia. His knee was significantly displaced with a serious dislocation which has involved the medial and cruciate ligaments. We've since reduced it to a reasonable position. He has mid shaft spiral tibia and fibula fractures. The tibia fracture is comminuted and there are two free fragments so is highly unstable. He also has distal tibia and fibula fractures with a full ankle dislocation, as well as a broken heel bone and three broken bones in his foot."

"Shit."

"Yeah," Martha agreed Jack's sentiment. "We've reduced him as far as we can without surgical intervention and he is cast. He's not as comfortable as I would like. He's receiving IV pain relief but it needs adjusting. It's not effectively managing his pain levels and the events of the day are making him feel nauseous. He's understandably worried about his leg and how he is going to heal. I think he'll heal well, but he was on his own in the TARDIS and he had to get out of the ladder to take the handbrake off to seek assistance. His leg fractures are highly unstable, so he's had a pretty traumatic morning. In addition, he burns through pain relief so quickly that the hefty dose of ketamine I gave him in order to perform the temporary reductions didn't last. He was awake by the time we were positioning him for casting and it was horrific for him. He ended up passing out and it triggered his respiratory bypass for a moment, due to the amount of pain he was enduring. He's had a hard time."

"It must have been hard for you too," Sarah Jane knew Martha wouldn't have enjoying hurting him. "Do you want us to go?"

"Not now you're here. He wants some pepper ribs, but I don't want you to stay for more than an hour. He needs to rest and I'll need to do some work with him to get his drugs right so he can get more comfortable. I expect I'll end up giving him some sedation through the IV so he can sleep. He's in a lot of pain, he's pretty scared, and he's had a mighty shock, both emotionally and physically."

"And he doesn't know how bad his leg is yet?"

"I think he does know because he's seen it and he had to move and he described it as being floppy. I'm hoping when he's had some rest and an opportunity to calm down and come to terms a little with what has happened then he'll be in a better position to start thinking about it rationally. He was worried the fractures were open and he was worried I was going to chop his foot off and he was worried he'd have to regenerate. He knows he dislocated his knee, broke his leg, and dislocated his ankle."

"That is frightening enough without complicating fractures," Jack realised.

"For now I don't want him to be told anything more specific. I'll aim to have a conversation with him tomorrow some time. At least now he's cast and straight. He has looked at the case and seems more content. He's in a full long leg cast at the moment so at some point I'll have to split it to allow for additional swelling, but that'll be the last difficult thing we need to do prior to the surgery."

"He will be okay won't he?" Sarah Jane asked.

"Providing we're able to stabilise him effectively and he heals well. He should make a decent enough recovery. I'm not sure his leg will ever get to the same kind of strength and condition prior to this, but I don't think there'll be anything that'll stop him going off in the TARDIS and living his life. It all depends on how we stabilise him, how he heals, and how compliant he is with his recovery. He's not going to be able to put any weight on his leg for weeks. If he starts jumping around within the next couple of days it's going to be harder and longer, so, when he's been stabilised and can be discharge. I think that is where you'll have to a play a more significant role because he's going to need a long time to recover, recuperate, and rehabilitate after this."

"How long will it take?"

"That's an impossible question to answer at the moment, but I don't see him being TARDIS fit for four to six months, if not longer. Certainly for the first couple of months he is going to need assistance because he's not going to be able to stand on his leg. It all depends on how he heals. He has suggested that Time Lords heal fractures relatively slowly compared to other injuries but that it is still faster than a human rate of recovery. I need to have a more in depth conversation with him about that when he is more comfortable." Martha advised them both. "So, that is where we are at the moment. Do you want to come through? If he has managed to go off to sleep then he's not to be woken. If he hasn't then you've got an hour with him to start with."

When they had both arrived Sarah Jane and Jack had both been commenting on how annoyed the Doctor was going to be and how difficult he was going to be to look after if he'd broken his leg. They'd laughed about him being a nightmare and driving everyone at UNIT mad with his desires to get up and go off in the TARDIS with his leg in plaster. One look at the photograph of his injury had brought a level of horror to their visit that they'd really not expected or contemplated. It was the Doctor. He wasn't going to be seriously hurt. Their amiable amusement that their beloved Time Lord was going to be wreaking havoc in a wheelchair or on crutches and their intention to take the chronic mickey out of him for doing something as daft as break a leg was replaced with a subdued concern for him. He'd actually really hurt himself.

Martha led the way down to treatment room Alpha where the Doctor was resting. She wanted to get him moved into the East Wing as soon as possible so there would be some distraction for him. He'd have remote access to the library data banks, to a wide range of digital music recordings, and full cable TV along with internet streaming from a wide DVD database. She doubted it would be enough to keep him entertained for long, but it would be better than just lying on a treatment bed looking at white washed walls and medical equipment. The East Wing was furnished in a more homely style for patients going to be there for a while but were not in critical need of constant medical observation. There were several rooms with on suite facilities, a little kitchenette area, and a common room with different things, including a pool table though he'd not be getting up to play pool for some considerable time yet.

"Just stay here and I'll make sure he's not asleep." Martha went into the room ahead of Jack and Martha. Gerald was sitting by his bed and he stood when Martha came in just in case the people with her had the same degree of formality as the military staff. The Doctor had managed to wrangle a second cup of tea from somewhere. The head of the bed was raised slightly so he could drink without a straw. He was so pale and she could tell that he was tense and uncomfortable by the way that he was lying, so he wasn't doing much better at all yet.

"Are they here?" the Doctor asked quietly.

"Yeah, I've told them they have to behave." Martha smiled sympathetically at him. "Are you sure you don't just want me to tell them to come back later?"

"I'm sure," the Doctor confirmed. Martha poked her head back out of the door and waved Jack and Sarah Jane in. They both entered not entirely sure what they were going to be greeted with, other than knowing that the Time Lord was seriously hurt.

"Oh, Doctor, look at your face?" Sarah Jane was appalled.

"Well, that is charming."

Martha hadn't mentioned anything about the deep bruising and swelling all down the left side of his face. His eye had swollen shut and the lid was shiny and fat with deep purple and blue blood. His cheek bone was swollen and a redder purple where the bruising was still developing.

"Ah, yes, he's got a touch of facial bruising." Martha winced and gave Jack and Sarah Jane both an apologetic look. It wasn't serious, but against the pallid complexion of the other side of his face it looked dramatic and she'd forgot to tell them, as her concern had been rightly concentrated on his leg injuries. "And a few stitches in his head, but no concussion and no facial fractures."

"Eleven stitches." Gerald confirmed to Martha. He'd written it up on the Doctor's file notes but not told her yet.

"How are you feeling?" Sarah Jane went and took the Doctor's hand. "I can't believe you've broken your leg. Is it really painful still?"

"Yeah." The Doctor sighed. "It hurts a lot."

"We're still working on getting the dose of drugs right," Martha reminded them.

"You did all this falling off a ladder?" Jack checked with the Time Lord. The Doctor nodded. He took in the way that the Doctor was lying with the long cast of his leg elevated up so his foot was almost two feet above the level of the mattress. The cast was long and white and sleek and had been formed out the heavy Plaster of Paris rather than the more lightweight fibreglass alternatives that he was sure UNIT had readily available. He was wearing a white T-shirt that had a UNIT medical motif on the right side of the chest so that was borrowed. There was a sheet folded over him from his abdomen and over his uncast leg so he didn't know what else he was wearing. "You daft bloody sod."

"I know."

"So, are we going to have something to eat?" Jack sat by his bed. "Hopefully it hasn't got too cold while we've been looking at your X-rays."

"Gerald, would you mind getting some plates from the mess?" Martha checked.

"Hello, by the way." Jack extended his hand towards the young medic. "Captain Jack Harkness." He introduced himself.

"Jack…" the Doctor grumbled. "Leave him alone."

"What? He's one of your medical team. I've got to say hello at least don't I?" Jack shook the junior medic's hand. "And what is your name?"

"Private Gerald Sutherland, Sir, Junior Medical Officer."

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you." Jack offered. "Bring yourself a plate as well and you can join us."

"I have duties to undertake, Sir, but thank you." Gerald didn't want to impose and he wasn't sure what Martha would think. He fetched the plates for them and then took the treatment trolley out so they had more room to move in the smaller room. He advised Martha that he was going to replenish what had been used to cast the Doctor's leg. It needed doing, so she let him go, though she would make sure he knew neither Jack or Sarah Jane would mind him being there. She wanted the Doctor to build a relationship with him, because there would be times when she couldn't be with him and at most of those times Gerald would be.

Jack and Martha cleared the top of the treatment bench in the room and checked what Chinese dishes had been given. He'd just asked for a full selection of the buffet and then some additional pepper ribs for the Doctor. Martha thought there was enough food for a whole platoon.

"It looks like Jack has tonnes of food," Sarah Jane commented as she took the seat by the Doctor's bedside. "I hope you're hungry?"

"Not really. I'll try to eat something but I'm feeling a bit sick."

"Maybe eating something will help," Sarah Jane offered.

"It might. It smells good."

"Martha said you're going to have surgery on your leg in a couple of days or so?"

"When the swelling goes down," the Doctor confirmed.

"At least you've got Martha to look after you." Sarah Jane wasn't quite sure what to say. He looked tired and he was quiet and subdued. "I'll bring Luke in to meet you properly while you're here." She suggested. "He's been dying to meet you. He's at school today or I might've brought him with me. Maybe I could bring him in a couple of days?"

"Okay," the Doctor agreed quietly. "You still owe me that story."

"Yeah, I do." Sarah Jane confirmed. "I can tell you after lunch if…" Sarah Jane paused as the Doctor grimaced. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and gasped and then groaned as waves of pain originated in his leg. It felt like someone was spearing him with red hot spears and then twisting them right through the middle of his leg. "Martha?" Sarah Jane got the medic's attention as she was helping Jack dish up their lunch.

"Take deep breaths, Doctor." Martha went straight to him. She took his hand and held it tightly as the Time Lord clenched her hand. He keened and cried out. "Deep breaths." Martha encouraged him again. "It will pass, breathe in through your nose to make use of the oxygen, Doctor."

Jack and Sarah Jane watched in dismay as pain undid the Doctor's composure completely. He was groaning and moaning with it, tears spilled from the corners of his tightly shut eyes, and he could barely breathe. Martha adjusted the painkillers in his drip up again but they weren't touching the cyclical pain she was sure had to be due to nerve damage. She thought about getting James back down to discuss the options, but really there were none. He just couldn't deal with the level of pain he was in when it hit him like this. The more it kept happening the more tired he got and the worse it affected him.

"Martha?" the Doctor bleated eventually as it started to calm down and he could get enough air to complain.

"I'm going to call James back down," Martha advised. "Do you know if there is anything you can take which will block neurological pain?" She asked him. "You must have a damaged nerve in there somewhere."

"Do you want us to go?" Sarah Jane asked.

"No…" the Doctor gasped as the tail end of what felt like a full scale attack lingered. "It's going off." He sighed heavily. For a few minutes after the horrific increase in pain his leg didn't feel as bad. It didn't take him long to forget how bad it had been and for the gnawing, throbbing, aching pain of the general injury to come back to the forefront of his mind, but that at least was tolerable even if it was wearing him down second by second.

"What was that?" Sarah Jane checked when it was clear the Doctor was relaxing as the pain was easing.

"A nerve generated pain. It seems to come six or seven times an hour. We need to look at putting some kind of nerve block in or using a drug suitable for neurological pain. Anything I have in my arsenal would take a sometime to build up and to be effective and have significant side effects," Martha offered. "I'll get my orthopaedic specialist down to see if we can determine the best way to manage the pain. I am sure once the surgery has been completed and the fractures are stabilised completely there won't be as much of an issue. It just hurts him significantly and there isn't much I can do to stop it." Martha stroked the Doctor's forearm as he breathed deeply, consciously drawing oxygen from the line through his nose then exhaling through his mouth.

"It's gone…" the Doctor acknowledged.

"But that is going to happen again in ten minutes or so?" Jack checked he understood.

"Yeah," the Doctor confirmed. "I think it's getting worse," he added and Martha nodded her concurrence. Jack sighed heavily, no wonder he sounded so miserable.

"It keeps happening," Martha confirmed.

"Perhaps we should go so you can get on." Jack realised they'd come in and were interfering with work Martha still had to do in order to get the Doctor comfortable and stable.

"No, it's okay. Don't go yet. When it's stopped it's not as bad," the Doctor assured them.

"Let's have something to eat and then we'll have a look." Martha commented. She knew they wouldn't go down the line of surgical intervention for an intermittent neurological pain when he was so swollen, they'd either manage it with drugs, or, unfortunately assist him to endure it, so it would be alright for the Doctor to eat if he was able to. She hoped it would make him feel better and more settled.

Jack finished dishing the food up. Martha pulled a bed table over for the Doctor to eat, but when Jack put a plate with a mountain of food topped with ribs the Doctor looked at it and felt ill. Martha took it back and just gave him a couple of ribs to start with to see if how he felt after chewing on them.

They ate and talked. Jack told the Doctor about the latest incidents they'd had in Torchwood and they asked the Doctor where he had been off to and what he had been doing, but he wasn't too forthcoming with that and Martha sensed there was more to his story. She'd work to get to the bottom of it. She knew he'd been involved with UNIT briefly as she'd been briefed by Captain Magumbo about the meeting she'd had with him and a flying London bus. It amused Martha, but she'd been in the process of transferring back from New York to the UK so she'd missed him.

They ate and had tea and coffee, but then Jack and Sarah Jane left. Not before ensuring the Doctor knew they were both going to be local in case he needed anything. Martha suggested there would be an evening visiting period at around 19.00hrs and they could come back then. Sarah Jane could tell it wouldn't be fair for the Doctor to be introduced to Luke yet and have the teenager bombard him with questions so she'd not be back until morning, but Jack assured him he'd come back and see how he was doing. If he was asleep and didn't want to be visited then he'd just visit Martha instead.


	9. Chapter 9

Martha was about to go and put a call out to get James to attend the Doctor's room to discuss what she suspected was a neurological involvement when the cyclical pain hit him again. It was too much for him to bear and he moaned and held onto Martha's hand. He tried to lie desperately still and to breathe through his nose. He did all the things he could think of to try and minimise the waves of pain that rode his leg as if it were some obscene bucking bronco. The cowboys were in, riding his leg like some kind of sick and twisted torture rodeo. None of his techniques were strong enough to defeat the cowboys.

"Keep still." Martha tried to hold him as the pain caused him to wriggle on the bed. He brought his left leg up and twisted over slightly. "Breathe in through your nose, Doctor, and keep still," Martha instructed but he was gasping between low moans. She clipped the feed over to the mask and put it over his nose and mouth, holding it despite him turning his head away from it.

"Gerald," Martha turned to her junior medic who had come to see if there was anything she needed. "Go and put an immediate call out for James Lloyd to attend please," she instructed. The lunch plates could wait. Sarah Jane had cleared them all up into a pile at the end of the bench before she left anyway.

Martha realised that it might have been better if one of them had stayed so they could hold and comfort him while she dealt with him medically. She didn't know if the episodes were getting physically wore or the Doctor was just less able to deal with them because he was exhausted. Either way he could not continue like this. It was too much for him. She couldn't increase the Bladamine levels any further.

"It will go off soon, Doctor," Martha assured him, hoping that it would not be long until he started to calm down though she worried they were getting more drawn out as well as more intense.

The Doctor was still being punished by the cowboys when James arrived in. Although Martha would have been happier if he had settled again she was relieved James could see that pain the Time Lord was enduring or it would be simply a case of telling him that it hurt more sometimes. Seeing the affect of the pain on the Doctor's pallor, his blood oxygen levels, his blood pressure, and his level of awareness was much more of a statement that showed the pain was very real and more of a concern that an expected variation in the level of discomfort such an injury would cause.

"This has been happening every ten to fifteen minutes," Martha advised James. "It has to be neurological. The pain relief is not touching it, and it appears to be worsening in intensity and duration."

"Okay," James could see he was in agony. "Doctor? Can you tell me where about the pain is?" He asked the Time Lord directly.

"Leg…" the Doctor moaned.

"Alright." James glanced at Martha and rolled his eyes slightly. "Can you tell me where in your leg it is hurting? Is it your knee?"

"No…"

"Okay, what about your ankle? Is it coming from your ankle, Doctor?"

"No?" the Time Lord whined his response.

"So, it's coming from between your knee and your ankle then?"

"No…"

"Alright." James was not entirely surprised that the Doctor was unable to fully differentiate where the pain was in his leg. He had little doubt that there would be nerve damage associated with each of the separate injuries. It was not complete because he retained sensation, but he expected it was more acutely associated with the mid-shaft fractures. "Let's elevate his leg further," James instructed. "We should get some ice on the cast as well."

"Gerald, can you fetch some gel pads please?" Martha suggested. The junior medic went to get them.

"I think this is coming from mid-shin," James advised. As he adjusted the sling to raise the Doctor's leg higher the Time Lord cried out in pain.

Martha held his hand, taking the role of friend rather than medic as James worked to try to determine the cause of the pain he was in. His leg was cast and it was secure, it should not have caused him so much pain to elevate it further. Even as Martha held his hand and caressed his head she knew she could not do much for him as he was oblivious to anything but the pain on the surface anyway. He still held her hand.

Martha got her phone out. She had a strong suspicion that a certain captain would not have gone far. He'd probably be trying to get himself accommodated in the UNIT barracks for a while. He was always welcome at hers but he was about a foot too long for the sofa. Jack was the last person that she had spoken to on her personal phone so she pulled up the call received list and just hit redial.

"Missing me already?" Jack answered the phone cheekily.

"Of course," Martha tutted. "How far are you away from here?" she asked him.

"Not far. I thought I'd take a wander up into town until later on, I'm only ten minutes away. Why?"

"Would you mind coming back?" Martha suggested. "We're having some issues and could do with someone on hand holding duties," Martha commented. She looked at the way the Doctor was crushing her other hand. "Someone with stronger hands than I have."

"Is he bad?" Jack worried already turning around and starting to job back toward the UNIT base. He'd been planning on walking along the Thames and then cutting up through embankment and heading up to Leicester Square, then to Covent Garden, China Town, and then Soho, sure he'd be able to find some entertainment for the afternoon before returning to visit in the evening. When he heard the Doctor cry out in background he picked up his pace.

"Let the gatehouse know I will be back," Jack suggested. "I will be as quick as I can be."

"Thanks, Jack." Martha was relieved. She thought about ringing Sarah Jane, but she was going home for Luke to come home from school. It would not be fair for the Doctor to have the boisterous and curious teenager to deal with and it would not be fair for Sarah Jane to be more worried than she already was. She hoped that it was not something that they had to be worried about, but if he didn't improve she thought it might be necessary for them to take him into surgery early. She wondered who would be classed as his next of kin if she did have to discuss going ahead with the procedure. The TARDIS probably, though how she would document that on the consent form she did not know.

"Is the East Wing ready yet?" James knew that the Doctor was going to be moved into there.

"It should be," Martha confirmed.

"I will go and check to make sure the cleaning crew is finished. They were only just going in earlier. There was a spill in the lab that they had to deal with first," Gerald offered. He went along the corridor past the treatment rooms, through a set of double doors, round the corner, and then through another set of sliding glass doors that formed the barrier between the wings of the hospital. They could be sealed and could provide an air seal if a high level quarantine was required. A quarantine was going to be put in place but only a level four one and Gerald knew that was only so that there wasn't a stream of people wanting to visit the Time Lord while he was recovering. He could see the cleaning crew were still working and he went and got an update.

"Is it ready?" Martha asked when he returned.

"They are just finishing off in the kitchen area, but the bedroom is ready for him."

"Okay, good, Doctor?" James made sure he got as much for the Time Lord's attention as he could spare from the cowboys. He was sure the pony had to get tired soon. "We're going to relocate you into the East Wing and then split the cast for you."

"Is it too tight?" Martha had checked it. She was sure it had not got too tight yet, there was certainly no circulatory compromise.

"No, it's still okay, but it will need doing. So, I want to do it now. We will take him down to a two third cast which will still give him full protection providing he does remain in bed. I want to do some scans we may have to alter the position of the central shaft fragments. I expect that is where the nerve is being affected. We can try some different positions fairly easily, if we have to and we'll start by doing some direct ice and see if that helps. It will be more effective than icing the cast. It's clear we're not going to have to worry about him going anywhere, so we'll need to manage this the best we can until he's able to have surgery."

"Okay," Martha confirmed.

"What level of pain relief is he on?" James asked picking up a chart at the end of the Doctor's bed. It had a bright red label on the top of the first page indicating drug allergies and that Doctor Jones was to be consulted prior to any medications being given. James knew that only the most awkward patients got a red sticker, some with minor allergies or contradictions got orange ones to warn, but very few got a complete no medication to be given, though not many of their patients were members of a different species. "5mls of Bladamine," James commented thoughtfully. "And not only still alive, but still awake, and still in pain."

"Welcome to the world of the Time Lord's medic," Martha commented.

"We can't take the level of his Bladamine any higher than it is," Martha advised James as the orthopaedic specialist marvelled at the dose that the Doctor was already receiving. She held both of the Doctor's hands as the Time Lord seemed to be calming back down, his moans becoming less desperate though it was clear he remained in discomfort. "Take deep breaths, Doctor, in through your nose remember," Martha encouraged.

"Can I… have a drink?" the Doctor asked a little hoarsely as he tried to clear his throat.

"You can have some water for now. I'm not sure how much you caught about what we've decided to do?" Martha asked him, but he looked at her blankly so she guessed it was nothing. "We're going to move you into the East Wing now." Martha saw a look of horror cross the Time Lord's face as he worried that moving was going to give the cowboy permission to mount up all over again.

"Don't worry. Your bed is on wheels," Martha assured him. "So, all we're going to do is take you in there and swap the beds over. Once you're in there we're going to split the cast in two places and remove a couple of inches at the front. It will allow us to get access to your leg for icing and possibly even local anaesthesia to try to make it you more comfortable," Martha explained.

"Martha has indicated that she believes that the additional pain you are receiving is neurological in origin and I concur. I suspect that there is some involvement of nerve tissues around the mid-shaft fractures that you have," James explained. "If you were human there would be various drug combinations we would try to minimise the impact of nerve pain, muscle spasm, and swelling. We'd certainly be looking at giving you some heavy duty anti-inflammatory drugs and also a muscle relaxant."

"I'm not.. human."

"No, I am aware of that. Hence the big do not give him any drugs stickers all over your charts," James commented. "What we need to know is if there are any nerve blockers, muscle relaxants, and anti-inflammatory drugs that you can take in combination with the Bladamine you are on. Hopefully if we can find the correct drug combination we will be able to minimise the pain that you're experiencing. So, are there any drugs you think you should try and if there are do we have access to them?" James asked him.

"Stenlaforate dijalipam is a muscle relaxant… that can be used… with Bladamine."

"I've never heard of that before. What is it? Stena…"

"Stenalaforate dijalipam. It is just normally called dijalipam," the Doctor advised.

"Do you have any in the TARDIS?" Martha asked him.

"Yes, but she is in standby mode… isn't she? It's in… the sickbay pharmacy because it is dangerous stuff. It acts… as a neurotoxin in humans and is fatally potent."

"Okay, how is it administered?"

"Intravenously usually, or there are times when it can be delivered direct, but you can't inject directly into my leg."

"We will see. I've got Jack coming back," Martha told the Doctor.

"Captain Jack?"

"Yes," Martha nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I think you need someone to keep you distracted and to hold your hand while James and I deal with your leg and Jack is very good at hand holding and distraction," Martha commented. "You don't mind do you?"

"No, though, I'd be wary of his… distraction techniques."

"He'll behave." Martha grinned. "At least until you're feeling a bit better. Once he gets back I will ask someone to escort him over to the TARDIS and pick up the dijalipam."

"You need to take precautions when handling it," the Doctor worried.

"How dangerous is it?"

"I can only have 0.5ml of it an hour," the Doctor commented. "Or it will have a respiratory depressive affect. Especially when given with Bladamine that has the same potential at high doses."

"Since you're taking 5ml of Bladamine and hour that you can only take 0.5ml of this new one means it is very potent?" James asked the Doctor.

"It is a Time Lord specific drug," the Doctor explained. "0.03ml has been known to be fatal when accidentally administered to a human. That was an extreme case though and the subject was allergic to the drug as well as affected by it. On average around 0.1ml would definitely have a fatal paralysing affect. It would knock out the respiratory system in a few seconds and affect the heart muscle inside a minute," the Doctor commented. "Because such a small dose is so dangerous even a needle stick injury could be very serious. It is also readily absorbed through the skin," the Doctor advised. "I am not sure it is worth bringing over. It is dangerous."

"We're quite used to handling some potent chemicals. What I will do is when it is brought over from the TARDIS I'll get it diluted."

"Diluted?"

"Yes, since we will likely be using it intravenously for you I will prepare some drip bags ready and the rest of the drug I will put in measured doses and dilute them. It won't make it any less difficult to administer through the drips, but it will mean it is safer if there are any accidents, though it is unlikely," Martha advised. "The medical team are careful when they handle drugs and needles. I'll dilute it to a factor of ten and make sure that you get 5ml an hour. Then it would take a full 1ml to affect a human and that will be harder to administer accidentally," Martha assured the Doctor.

"That's quite clever."

"I'm not just a pretty face you know," Martha teased the Doctor slightly and he smiled weakly. Gerald came in with a glass of water for the Doctor and he drank some. "You can have a cup of tea once we've got you sorted out in the East Wing."

"Should we go?" James glanced at his watch. Not because he was being impatient but because he had another patient coming in for an adjustment to be made to an external fixator and he did not want to keep them waiting too long. Martha caught him reading the time. He didn't want her to think that he was being dismissive of the Doctor and the pain he was in because he really wasn't.

"Eddie Flynn is due in at half three," James reminded Martha. It was only just ten to three, but if they were going to split the Doctor's cast then it was going to take some time.

"Okay," Martha commented. "He's just having a planar extension today isn't he?" Martha checked.

"Yes, I'm doing that and then he will see Barb afterward for a pin clean."

"Alright, I will take the Doctor into the East Wing with Gerald. I will arrange for Jack to go and pick up the drugs from the TARDIS, and then when you have dealt with Eddie you can come back and we will split the cast. That means you can have a cup of tea before hand," Martha advised the Doctor. "Is that okay?"

"Is it going to be a long delay?" the Doctor wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to stand it. The cowboys were all geared up and walking around the paddock checking on their livestock picking the ones ready for the next rodeo.

"It might be as much as an hour, but, Eddie is often in early and if he is then James can see him quickly," Martha assured the Doctor. "We just don't like to keep him waiting here for long if we can avoid it."

"Who is Eddie?"

"You may meet him before the end of your stay depending on how long it is until you're ready for surgery. He's only four so we try to get him in and out so he doesn't have to stay here too long. We don't have many paediatric patients so we don't have many toys around and things to keep him occupied, but he'd not get the treatment he's having in the UK without him having it here," Martha explained.

"And he's four?"

"He's booked in to have some surgery and an over night stay in a couple of weeks."

"You'll be able to play with him then," Martha teased.

"I am not going to still be here in two weeks."

"We'll see how long it is until you can safely have surgery. If we decide that we need to put a full plate in then it may be a week or so before the swelling goes down enough to do that," James warned him. "Then it will depend on how you cope with it after the surgery. Until you're able to fend a little for yourself I don't see that you're going to be able to go anywhere."

"For now, let's get you into the East Wing and wait for Jack so he can go and get you the drugs from the TARDIS," Martha commented not wanting the Doctor to be thinking too much about the length of time he might be stuck in the hospital. Knowing the extent of the injuries she thought two weeks was probably the most optimistic end of the stay scale.

They had chatted for so long that the next wave of the intolerable pain hit the Doctor while Martha and Gerald were pushing his bed along the corridor toward the East Wing. He was moaning on the bed as the cowboy bucked and bounced around on his leg. As they got him into the room in the East Wing that would become his place of stay for at least the next fortnight Jack arrived back. He was shown through by Anita and he immediately took up the role of providing comfort to the Time Lord.

"He's getting worse," Jack commented as he gripped the Doctor's hand, but the Time Lord seemed almost oblivious to everything going on around him.

"It is exhausting him," Martha agreed. She allowed Jack to comfort the Doctor while he got his drip set back up and connected the monitors back up so they could be read on the screens on show in the room. The room looked more comfortable. It was less visibly sterile with pale blue walls rather than the harsh white. There was a TV in the room and an arm chair with cushions. There were still obvious signs of medical equipment but it was not as basic.

The TV was connected to a massive digital library of films and music. When the Doctor was more sorted she'd show him how to access it and he could watch just about any film released in the UK and a few that had only been released overseas. She was sure he'd find something he wanted to watch once he was feeling more comfortable.

"You need to do something, Martha," Jack fretted as he tried to hold the Doctor. "He can't carry on like this."

"I know. The orthopaedic specialist has just gone to deal with a priority patient and then he will be back."

"How can this not be a priority?" Jack didn't mean to question Martha, but he couldn't stand to see the Doctor in so much difficulty. "He's in agony."

"What I need you to do is get over to the TARDIS and find a drug that he thinks may help. When he calms down again he will be able to tell us where it is," Martha suggested.

"Come on, Doc, take deep breaths." Jack didn't know hat else to say as the Doctor whined on inhale and groaned on exhale in an excruciating verbal seesaw. Jack caressed his head and clutched his hand as the Doctor tensed and writhed slightly on the bed. He whimpered and keened, but then he fell silent as his body went slack. His vice like grip on Jack's hand faded away to nothing. "Martha?"

"He's passed out," Martha sighed. She adjusted the position of his head on the pillow to ensure that his airway was protected and she put the oxygen mask back on to feed it to his nose and mouth rather than just his nose. As she was doing that a low moan rose from the Doctor's throat as he started to come back round almost straight away.

"Oh, Doctor, you're too stubborn for your own good," Martha complained. "You should stay asleep for a while."

"It hurts… so much… Martha?" the Doctor sounded like he was pleading with her to do something to help him.

"Tell me where I can find the drugs you need?" Jack held the Doctor's hand again. The Doctor looked at the large calloused hand in his. It was the Captain's. He wasn't even really sure that he'd been aware of him coming into the room. "Hello, again, I came back early." Jack could see the Doctor was a little confused. It was clear he still wasn't comfortable because his grip was tight and he was bending and straightening his left leg under the sheet restlessly as if he could find a better position to lie in.

"Thank you," the Doctor accepted.

"I'm going to go over to the TARDIS and get some medicine that you need?" Jack prompted. "Where will I find it?"

"In the pharmacy cupboard... they are in sickbay… it's got a coded door."

"What is the code?"

"Raynes, alim, coray, ramsah," the Doctor commented quietly. "I will need… to write it down for you."

"Here," Martha got a pen out of the breast pocket of her white coat and a small flip notebook from her combat trousers. The Doctor took it and wrote four Gallifreyan symbols on it and then she handed it to Jack to make sure he could read them okay.

"You need to locate… them on the four… reels in the lock."

"Why didn't you just say it was one, two, three, four?" Jack asked the Time Lord looking at the symbols which were each a hexagon with a small circle up in the top right hand side intersecting it, but then with one, two, three, or four lines running through the circle.

"It is… one to four… in Gallifreyan," the Doctor accepted.

"Say it again?" Jack prompted.

"Raynes, alim, coray, ramsah."

"Raynes, alim, coray, ramsah," the Captain repeated. The Doctor nodded.

"Gallifreyan lessons can wait until later," Martha suggested. "Is there anything else that you want Jack to get from the TARDIS? What about something to help you to sleep later on?" Martha asked him. "I will be looking at our standard sedation. Do you have anything else you want Jack to get from the TARDIS while he is there?"

"Tea?"

"You want me to bring you a cup of tea from the TARDIS?" Jack was surprised by the notion, but Martha wasn't.

"Oh, I am sorry, Doctor," Martha laughed an apology to the Time Lord, but the Captain just regarded her curiously. "You don't need to get Jack to bring a tea supply from the TARDIS. I've got some decent tea bags. I'm sorry, I should have told Gerald not to use the standard UNIT kit," Martha apologised to the Doctor and then looked to Jack to continue her explanation. "The UNIT tea supply is horrid. It comes out grey and it tastes weird. When I started here I replaced all the tea supplies in the hospital over to what I consider to be decent tea and all the squaddies complained until I had to switch it back, but it is awful," Martha advised him.

"It's foul," the Doctor grumbled.

"I will speak to Gerald and make sure he doesn't use the UNIT stock," Martha commented. "I am sorry," she realised that not only had he had a horrible shock and hurt himself, come to UNIT and been tortured by them because their medications didn't last long enough, was still suffering because they were unable to manage his pain to consistently tolerable levels, but they had also given him rubbish tea.

"Not coming here… again," the Doctor complained. Martha put her hand to his right cheek for a moment in an unusually intimate show of direct affection. He didn't object, but he looked so pale and tired that anything had to help.

"I will get Gerald to make you a decent cup of tea. Now you're in the East wing it will be easier. One of us will always be in here and there is a little kitchen just next door where we can make tea and sandwiches and things. This part of the hospital doubles up as one of our isolation and quarantine areas, but it is kitted out a bit like a long term hostel. Once you've had surgery and are starting to move around a bit there is a common room with a pool table and things, it will give us a week or so to practise," Martha suggested.

"A week?" the Doctor asked quietly.

"Do you want to talk about what you have done to your leg yet?" Martha asked him. For a moment it looked like he was just going to burst into tears. Jack obviously saw the same level of distress on the Time Lord's pallid expression because he carefully wrapped his arms around him and kissed him on the top of the head. Martha wondered if she should just tell him whether he wanted to know or not. It was horrible and serious, but she'd seen the footage from the TARDIS and the way the Doctor had needed to free himself from the ladder and then move across the TARDIS with his leg literally flopping from the breaks. She didn't know what was going through his head except that it was probably made worse because his head had to be aching on top because of the way he had hit that too. He didn't answer the question verbally, but he did shake his head slightly.

"Why not, Doc?" Jack asked him. "It's got to be worse not knowing than having to hid out. I mean I've seen it and it's horrible, but Martha doesn't think there is anything that won't heal and I'm sure she'd feel better if you could discuss it just so she knows about the Time Lord side of it?"

"It's okay," Martha didn't want the Doctor to get too distressed. "We'll see about it later on. Let's get back to what we need from the TARDIS or James will be finished with Eddie and we won't be ready for him. I've got Darjeeling, Assam, and good old English Breakfast teas so unless you really do want TARDIS tea then you don't need to worry about Jack fetching your teabags," Martha assured him. "He could pick you up a couple of T-shirts couldn't he? I don't think that your suit is a good idea for a while. I'll find some tracksuit pants that we can cut a leg off. As long as you're not going to object to them being UNIT issue?" Martha pointed to the UNIT medical emblem on the T-shirt that he was wearing.

"I don't want to be dressed like a soldier," the Doctor mumbled.

"You won't be," Martha assured him. "You'll be dressing like a nurse." She winked at him and he sighed. "Unless you've got any tracksuit bottoms that are going to be loose enough and comfortable enough for you to lie in and that you don't mind having a leg hacked off I would suggest that you just borrow some," Martha suggested seriously and the Doctor nodded.

"Good," Martha confirmed. "Right, no, I want you to consider what you would do if you had a Time Lord patient with serious soft tissue and skeletal injuries with an uncontrolled neurological aspect that will be managed with a combination of Bladamine and dijalipam. Your patient is getting exhausted…"

"…and grumpy," Jack interjected.

"Understandably grumpy for now," Martha didn't dispute it and the Doctor grumbled. "Though prolonged grumpiness will not be tolerated. How would you manage the patient's night time rest period as it is likely that they will need assistance to sleep. Available in stock is dihenhydramine, zolpidem tartrate, and alprazolam," Martha commented. "There is also temazapam and Lorazepam, but I know that the patient is unable to tolerate them. How would you best ensure that the patient has a peaceful night?" Martha asked the Doctor.

"Is the zolpidem tartrate an extended release or a standard release drug?" the Doctor asked.

"It is available as either. Can you take zolpidem? I thought that GABA blockers weren't too good for you?"

"Zolpidem tartrate binds to a specific GABA receptor and it is fine. Generic GABA blockers like the benzodiazepines aren't suitable for Time Lords but Zolpidem is quite effective as a sedative, though it can have side effects."

"What are they likely to be?"

"Potential hallucinations and particularly vivid dreams," the Doctor offered.

"Have you ever taken it before?"

"I've not taken it in this regeneration."

"So, does your response to drugs change between regenerations?" Martha checked with him.

"Different body; subtle differences in biochemistry," the Doctor confirmed.

"Is there an alternative sedation you'd like Jack to get out of the TARDIS?" Martha got back to the question in hand.

"No, I don't think so."

"We can always revisit it tomorrow depending on how we go tonight," Martha suggested. "So, we'll stick to zolpidem tonight?"

"Yeah."

"What dose will you be taking so we can make sure we have plenty available," Martha advised.

"30mg should be enough if I can't sleep."

"That is 3 times the maximum dose for a human," Martha commented.

"I used to date a guy that took zolpidem," Jack commented. "It knocked him out totally, but after a couple of hours I could wake him up and he'd get all horny. We'd have a good time and then in the morning he'd not remember a thing about it," Jack advised.

"Jack!" Martha exclaimed. "I think that is bordering on abuse."

"I'm not sure it's bordering," the Doctor stated. "He's not staying… tonight is he?"

"He might do." Martha chuckled. "But don't worry. I'll keep you safe."


	10. Chapter 10

"I'm just going to call someone to take Jack over to the TARDIS," Martha offered. "I'll be back in just a moment." She nodded towards Jack and suggested that he should come out of the room to talk to him. "Are you going to stay overnight?"

"If you want me to?" Jack asked. "He's going to have a hard time isn't he?"

"Hopefully we will be able to control the pain more effectively for him, but I don't think we'll be able to totally alleviate it, so he may have an uncomfortable time until he after he is stabilised in surgery. It's too risky to do it while he's so swollen unless it becomes a surgical emergency. If we cut him open we'd not be able to close him back up again, he'd be left with open wounds down to fractured bone and that would be a huge infection risk," Martha sighed. "I just hope we can make him more comfortable."

"To do that you need the drugs from the TARDIS, right?"

"Yeah, have you got your key?"

"Yep," Jack confirmed.

"Take this into the TV room while I get someone to come down. Run it in the DVD player but keep the volume right down? He doesn't need to hear it. Once you've watched it I think you will understand more about why he is terrified of knowing what he has done to his leg and why he's so emotionally worn," Martha commented.

"What is it?"

"It's the footage from the TARDIS. She downloaded it for me so I can go through it with the orthopaedic team to see exactly how the injuries occurred," Martha advised.

"Does it matter how he did it in terms of how you fix it?"

"In some ways. Different forces cause different break patterns, not only on the gross scale but also within the nature of the fractures as well. It is better to know as much as we can before we operate. I will call someone over to take you over to the TARDIS to get what he needs. Watch that quickly before you go. I think it will help you understand a bit more about what he is feeling?" Martha suggested. She popped her head back in to the Doctor and checked he was alright. He was just lying with his arms over his head again to block everything out. There was a phone in his room so she just used that to call across to control to get someone to escort Jack.

She thought about asking Colonel Mace to provide Jack with a level three base clearance pass. It would allow him to move around the base without escort, but not provide him access to any of the confidential stuff he'd already know all about through elicit means. Knowing Colonel Mace and common sense indicated she should leave that question until the following day as she expected the base commander would be still reeling about having the Time Lord back on site never mind Torchwood. She did like and respect Colonel Mace. He was an intelligent, loyal, and compassionate man, but he was also quite rigid in a necessary military sense and she found him amusing in his manner. It was why the Doctor and he clashed despite having an undeniable mutual respect for one another.

Their urgent autopsy was also being disrupted and delayed would cause further concern to the Colonel, he didn't like it when things did not go exactly to plan. She was sure that Doctor Luke Wilson would be able to handle the autopsy as well as she could, and, that Sir Alistair would be more than understanding if he was told the reason why the autopsy had been delayed was due to the Doctor being injured.

If the medication worked and the Doctor had a period of rest overnight she thought she might speak to Luke, find out how far he had got with the autopsy, and then share the information with he Doctor. He might know what the creature was and be able to get involved and provide them with insight at the same time as providing him with a distraction. If he did not have a restful night then she would not seek to involve him as it could be detrimental to his recovery.

It was a couple of minutes after Martha had phoned control that Private Coates returned to the medical centre. He was brought into the East Wing by Anita. "Ah, Private Coates, are you our escort?" Martha asked him when he stood to attention and saluted in the doorway to the Doctor's room.

"Yes ma'am," he confirmed.

"Excellent. I need you to take Captain Jack to warehouse 7. He is going to retrieve some items from the TARDIS for the Doctor and I need you to wait and to return with him."

"Yes ma'am," Private Coates confirmed he understood the order. He was playing taxi service. Martha left the Doctor's room to head back to the common room where Jack was. Private Coates turned to wait outside, but then he hesitated. "Ma'am?"

"What is it Private?"

"Is it true that the Doctor is going to lose his leg?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"Some of the guys that saw him coming out of the TARDIS?"

"Well, you can tell them that I don't appreciate the gossip, but, you can also tell them that no, he is not going to lose his leg. Not on my watch. Is that understood?"

"Yes Ma'am, sorry."

"There is no need to apologise," Martha assured him. "But, I don't want the rumour mill to go into overdrive and for that kind of falsehood to get back to the Doctor. He is injured but there is no reason not to expect him to make a good recovery. Now, let me introduce you to Jack and you can take him over to the warehouse."

"Is it Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood?"

"Yes it is," Martha confirmed.

"I have read his UNIT files," Private Coates commented.

"Was that before or after he managed to hack into the archive and amend them?" Martha asked the Private and smiled. She had read the Captain's file both before and after the immortal had amended his own records as a joke. She thought that might be a further reason to delay asking Colonel Mace to give the Captain base clearance.

They went into the adjacent room where Jack had been watching the footage from the TARDIS. Martha knew it was difficult and she wanted Jack to see it because he might understand the Doctor's frame of mind soon after the events. She did not realise just ho hard Jack would have found watching it, though, knowing the loyalty and love that underpinned Jack's dealings with the Time Lord perhaps she should have done, for when she went into the room with Private Coates. Jack was sat facing the TV screen, but with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands and tears on his face.

"Give me a moment, please, Private," Martha asked and the young soldier nodded and moved to stand outside in the corridor. He could see that the Time Lord was lying on his bed and he seemed to be struggling. He looked back at Martha and she was sitting talking to the Captain who was upset. There was a picture on the TV screen of the Doctor lying on the ground. He was holding his thigh and he looked like he was screaming as his leg was twisted and hanging down from the shin. It looked bad, at least now he had a big cast on his leg so it had to be in a better condition than in the picture.

When Private Coates heard the Doctor moan from in his room he looked to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity that might be able to go and see him. There wasn't anyone else in the East Wing at all. He didn't want the Doctor to be in pain and on his own, so he went and knocked on the door. He didn't step in completely, but he made his presence known. "Is there anything I can do, Sir?" He then saluted the Time Lord aware that he was still a senior Science Advisor for UNIT.

"Don't call… me, Sir…" the Doctor hadn't noticed that he'd been saluted or he'd probably have felt worse. "Where's Martha?"

"Doctor Jones is just in the next room talking to Captain Harkness, um…" Private Coates wanted to say Sir, but had been told not to. Now he just didn't know how to end the sentence and he ended up just leaving it hanging in mid air. "Do you need me to get Doctor Jones?"

"Nothing else… she can do… just now."

"I'm taking Captain Harkness to the TARDIS to get some things for you."

"Have you… got a… gun?"

"On me now?" Private Coates had no idea why the Doctor was asking him that. It worried him slightly that he wanted a gun or he thought that he should have one to go with the Captain or that he shouldn't?

"Yes."

"No," he confirmed. "I am not armed. I am assigned to base duties today and we are not on alert. I am not carrying my side arm and we have not been issued any of other weapons."

"Okay... good… don't like guns."

"Neither do I, really, Sir."

"But… you're a… soldier."

"I am," Private Coates. "I should only be cadet level really, but there are a few of us who have been made Privates, but I became a soldier to protect, Sir, not to kill."

"Good reason…" the Doctor accepted. "But… don't call me… Sir," he reminded the young man but then he groaned with the pain in his leg as the cowboy was preparing to saddle up again and the arena crowd were itching with anticipation of the best show in town. "What… is your… name?"

"Private Coates, Sir. Are you sure there is nothing I can do to help?"

"It just… hurts… what is… your first… name?"

"Ethan."

"Ethan," the Doctor acknowledged. He didn't look much different from Ross. The Soldier who he'd befriended and had got killed by the Sontarans. He couldn't think about that now. The cowboy was back on board his mount. He was in the stall. His clowns and the trainers were all priming him ready for when the stall gate was dropped and the bucking started for real.

"So, have you broken your leg then?" Private Coates asked feeling like he should do something for the man lying on the bed in pain, but he also worried that in any moment Doctor Jones would return and he'd get court marshalled for not being where he was supposed to be.

During their training they all learned about the Doctor. He was a case study in his own right and was often used as a kind of white elephant in terms of whether aliens were to be considered hostile. The Doctor's exploits in saving and assisting mankind were well documented and UNIT made it known that they were only the tip of very large iceberg in what the Doctor had done for them. He was described as being highly intelligent and to be quite formidable and something to be reckoned with, but all Private Coates could see was a man that was in so much pain he was starting to writhe a little on the bed.

He didn't know what he could do to help him, but it was clear the Doctor needed it. He didn't want to touch him or anything in case that wasn't allowed and it offended him. He decided just to keep talking. He didn't mind if the Doctor wasn't actually listening, but if he was, then perhaps it would help him.

"My brother broke his leg when he was fourteen. We were off riding on my mud bike in the woods and he took corner badly and ended up in a ditch. It was only a little one but he snapped his leg in two, above his knee in his femur. I'm a couple of years older than him and I felt so bad because I was supposed to be looking after him and I wasn't supposed to let him ride my bike. He was in hospital for almost three weeks, but he healed up fine in the end. He had a metal rod hammered right down the middle of his leg," Private Coates advised.

"Does it… bother him… now?" the Doctor proved he was listening despite the crowd roaring in expectation. They had risen to their feet and were waving their banners as the silent countdown started. Any second the stall gates were going to be dropped and that beastly cowboy was going to be released into the arena on his untamed stallion. They didn't know exactly when the click of the bolts on the stall would pop back releasing the full rodeo but the anticipation rose as half the crowd held their breath and the other half bayed for blood.

"He did fully recovery," Private Coates confirmed. "But, he was killed by the daleks last year."

"I'm… sorry," the Doctor gasped as the cowboy dug his spurs in unexpectedly.

"You don't need to be sorry, Sir, I mean…"

"Doctor."

"Okay, Doctor, but you don't need to be sorry. I've read all the reports that were submitted. Those that aren't level one classified anyway. I've only got level three clearance until I am no longer a junior level Private. The reports that I've seen pretty much say that we'd all be dead if it was not for you and that there was some kind of dalek experiment that turned people into dust."

"I'm… still sorry… about your… brother."

"Me too," Private Coates advised. "But, that is why I joined UNIT. When they started to recruit people under 25 because of all the losses they had during that same series of events."

"How old are you?"

"I'm 20," Private Coates advised. "When I am 21 I will be able to undertake the full entrance exams and become a full Private and then look at further advancement and specialisation. I can only do training and base work until then."

"So… you joined to… avenge your… brother?"

"No," Private Coates shook his head. "I see no benefit to that. It would not bring him back. I want to specialise and become an intelligence and communications officer. That is my intention anyway. Maybe if we took the time to learn more about the races we come across and try to talk to them things would be better? Maybe if UNIT had been better at that then less people would have died and there might have been a peaceful resolution."

"Not… with… daleks," the Doctor advised. "But… communication… it's a… good place… to… start." He grimaced and gasped, squeezing his eyes closed.

"Are you sure there isn't anything I can do?"

"Aarrgh… God?"

"Doctor?"

"Ethan…" the Doctor moaned. "…leg?" The gate dropped and the Doctor cried out as the crowd all cheered and rose to their feet shouting and waving their banners as the rodeo on his leg began in earnest. The cowboy dug his heels in and he clung on, spinning and bucking and twisting.

"I'll get Doctor Jones." Private Coates left the room, but the Doctor didn't answer him. The bucking got too ferocious. The crowd gasped and their banners all remained still, the only movement came from the wind and the stallion bucking and galloping around the arena as the clowns tried to keep him away from the thrown cowboy who laid face down and unmoving in the sawdust.

"Doctor Jones?" Private Coates knocked on the common room door. "I am sorry to disturb you, ma'am, but the Doctor seems to be in too much pain?" Private Coates hoped he wasn't going to get into trouble for talking to the Time Lord. They'd all been warned that there was a level four quarantine in place and that anyone found bothering and disturbing their guest would be disciplined.

"Come on, Private, you can take me to the TARDIS and we can get his drugs." Jack snapped back into action. He'd been horrified by what the Doctor had been through when his leg was stuck in the ladder. He was going to make sure he could stay as long as was needed and that he'd provide the Doctor with as much help and support as he could and as much as the Doctor would let him give.

It was one thing to see a photo and the X-rays, but to see the video of the Doctor falling and then having to free himself from the ladder and drop onto the floor with his leg literally flopping mid-shin? For Jack it was not the medical inside that Martha wanted from it, it was simply heart breaking.

Martha went into the Doctor and found him passed out with the pain for a second time. His breathing was okay. He needed to calm down and to rest. She worried that unconsciousness was going to be the only respite he got, especially if the drugs Jack was fetching did not work well They were a muscle relaxant and would assist in some senses, but they may not fully alleviate the neurological pain; only minimise the effects if the damaged nerves were causing muscular gentle contractions within the cast that stressed his injuries.


	11. Chapter 11

When Jack returned with the drugs from the TARDIS Martha was relieved and hoped that they would make a big difference to how the Doctor managed. The Time Lord was still unconscious. He had been for almost twenty minutes, so while it was awful that pain had caused him to pass out, it was good that he was resting. The Bladamine was bordering on sedative in its own right so Martha hoped the drowsiness would help him remain under for a while, unlike the first time when he'd just fainted briefly.

"I need to take these drugs into the lab to dilute them and prepare them for use," Martha advised Jack. "I'm going to get them ready to administer through the fluid packs to limit the risk of accidental contact. Apparently in a human the drug can kill quickly at very low exposure," Martha explained to Jack. "Can you make sure you stay with him?"

"Of course I'll stay with him." Jack was a little surprised that he'd do anything but.

"James Lloyd will be in attendance soon. If he returns before I do then tell him I'm in the lab sorting out the medication and that I will be back shortly."

"Okay, I will," Jack confirmed.

"Please don't wake him up."

"I won't," Jack assured Martha.

"If you want a drink or anything then Gerald will be around. Can you ask him to make it, or, to stay with him if you want to make it."

"Martha." Jack smiled sympathetically. "Just go and sort out his drugs. I can look after him for ten minutes or so while he's asleep," Jack insisted aware of how worried Martha was for her to be fussing so much. She nodded and left to attend the medical lab to prepare drip bags for the Doctor ready with a high level of Bladamine and the dijalipam. She put four doses in each litre bag so that they would be run through at a slow level but provide him the drugs he needed. Every four hours they could then just swap them over for him.

She made sure that she added a purely aesthetic purple dye to the drips. It was a basic vegetable dye derived from beetroot that coloured the fluid. She then put bright red labels on the drip packs so there was no mistaking them for standard fluid. She readied six packs so there was a twenty four hour supply ready and she locked the rest of the drugs into a specific cabinet in the pharmacy that could only be opened with her authority.

The lab was adjacent to the autopsy bay so she went and looked in from the observation room that had a glass wall looking down into the main autopsy area. She wanted to know how Luke Wilson was getting on with the autopsy of the alien and if he'd come to any conclusions yet, but the autopsy room was unmanned and dark. She went into her office quickly and rang control and they confirmed that Doctor Wilson had not come back on site yet. She was sure that he'd be able to adjust his schedule over the next couple of days to fit in the autopsy. She was a little disappointed not to be continuing it herself. She was sure it was going to be fascinating, but she had to prioritise the Doctor. He was a living patient and more importantly her friend. Until he was more comfortable she would not think of her other duties.

James was in the East Wing talking quietly to Jack when Martha arrived back with the six drip bags on a trolley. They were just outside the Doctor's room so they could talk without risking disturbing him, but the door was open and they could observe him to ensure he was alright.

"He is still out of it," Jack advised Martha.

"Okay." Martha put one of the drip bags on the bench and moved the other five so that they were secured but out of sight in the cupboard at the side of the room. She checked that the electronic titrate machine that controlled the rate of fluid was set to a litre every four hours. It was a slow rate, but she didn't want it any higher than that. She input a code and set the machine so that it was secured on a litre every four hours so that it could not be accidentally changed. She wanted to make sure he got a high level of drugs consistently, but the thought of him being overdosed was unbearable. She got it all ready, but she didn't put the medication straight up.

"Aren't you going to give him it, after all of that?"

"Not yet." Martha answered Jack's question. "I think we should give him a small dose of ketamine to ensure that he remains unconscious, and then we can split the cast for him?" She suggested to Jack and looked to James for confirmation that was the best course of action.

"I have looked at the scans again," James commented. "I believe that he may be experiencing neurological pain due to an interaction between a fragment of his tibia and the equivalent of a Saphenous nerve running down the inside of his lower leg." As he spoke James put some images up on the screen in the Doctor's room. "See how that fragment of bone remains angled away from the natural line of the tibia?" He pointed to the images. "If we look at the MRI images? I believe that this structure here is the nerve fibres." James brought another image and he manipulated them so they were overlaid.

"It looks like the bone fragment is interfering with the nerve bundle," Martha commented. "No wonder he is experiencing acute pain with it."

"We're not going to be able to stabilise that bone fragment without surgery, and, I maintain that immediate surgery carries too many risks at this point," James advised and Martha nodded her consensus. "I think we may be able to manipulate that bone fragment away from the nerve line without removing the cast or damaging the nerve tissues further. It may help, or, the fragment may have caused some actual damage to the nerve in which case it won't solve the issue fully. I think it is the best shot of giving him some respite without risking immediate surgery. I want to avoid that if at all possible," James explained.

"If we split the cast and then cup down a small section at the side we should be able to manually manipulate that fragment away."

"The question would then be to determine whether it will remain away or if it will move back. We may have to apply some sort of local skin traction to keep it from shifting back towards the nerve if there are any muscular contractions in the area," James advised.

Jack tried to follow what Martha and James were discussing. It was clear they both understood each other by the way they worked together and discussed the images. Jack could tell that the Doctor was in good hands, but he could also tell enough that whatever they were talking about when they mentioned manual manipulation of bone fragments and skin traction it was not something the Doctor was going to like much.

The two medics got Gerald to come back in and then a nurse that Jack had not met yet called Barb. She seemed to be disappointed that they were having to do more work on the Doctor so soon. There was a minor disagreement between Martha and James concerning the Captain and whether he should stay in the room while they were doing the procedure. Martha wanted him to stay to assist in comforting the Doctor, while James was concerned he would get in the way.

Martha assured the orthopaedic specialist that Jack would not faint and that if there was a need to act quickly to intervene if the Doctor experienced any complications due to the high level of drugs, such as a respiratory depression, that Jack would get out the way and wait outside then. As Martha assured James she looked at the Captain and he nodded his agreement. James didn't really think the Doctor was going to need any comforting. He was unconscious and they were going to give him more ketamine. Martha believed that as soon as they went anywhere near his leg that it would bring him up rather than push him further under his unconsciousness.

They got all that they needed ready. Barb stood at the Doctor's bed head to monitor him while Jack stood at the same position but on the opposite side to comfort him. They introduced themselves over the top of the sleeping Time Lord. Gerald was ready to assist Martha and James with the Doctor's actual leg and to provide any equipment that they wanted when they wanted it. Martha readied a third dose of ketamine and gave it the Doctor.

The first thing they had to do was to take the Doctor's leg down from the elevated sling on the bed and support it properly. The cast was bent so the knee was at 60 degrees so it did not lay flat on the bed, and with a broken heel they did not want any kind of pressure to be put through the bottom of the cast. They rested his leg on pillows but so that it was resting down rather than hanging up. It was clear that the Doctor was not going to remain oblivious as he moaned with the change in position of his leg.

"How wide do you want to make the split?" Martha asked James.

"I think we want to go to a two third cast," James suggested. It would be more substantial than a half cast back slab and would remain snug around his leg, but give them access to the front of his leg to monitor the swelling and the soft tissues. Martha took a black marker and she drew lines at the front of his cast either side of the middle, so that the cast came up around the side of his leg and just starting to curve back in again so that it could not accidentally slip off his leg. James was happy with the position of the marks and he took a circular saw and cut along the lines that Martha had drawn.

Once they had made the cuts right along the length of the cast Martha put a pair of pliers into the splits. Instead of squeezing them shut she opened them wide. There were audible cracks when the plaster cast came apart and they could lift it up off the rest of the cast. Jack expected to see the skin of the Doctor's leg, but there was a layer of cotton wool padding bandage. Martha carefully cut up that right along the centre of his leg so that she could fold it over the sides and ensure there were no sharp edges that would aggravate the Doctor's skin. They were going to have to make sure that the edges of the plaster did not cut into his leg if he continued to swell.

There were areas of deep bruising showing on his leg, especially around his ankle and his foot. His knee was hugely swollen into a shiny black dome that seemed to burst up through the plaster now that it was cut. It was higher that the level of the cast so it was indication that it had been beginning to get too tight. It was going to cause further problems though as the edge of the plaster came up over his knee on either side and was already causing parallel depressions in the fluid filled skin that would risk the strained cells and quickly cause rupture and sores.

"We definitely need to put a drain into his knee," Martha commented and James nodded his agreement. He gently pressed into the swelling to see if he could get his little finger in between the cast and the skin. There should have been space allowing him to do it easily because of the foam within the cast but he couldn't and the Doctor made his discontent known by wailing despite remaining out of it.

Jack held the Doctor's limp hand in his and hooked an arm under his neck so that he could hold him. When he heard Martha and James discussing how they were going to incise the side of his knee and insert a tube into the space between the fractured head of his tibia and the cracked head of his femur he felt physically sick.

"Let's continue and take the cast down to 180 degrees at his knee," Martha suggested. "We can draw some fluid off manually and then put the drain in for him."

"You're going to knock him right out for that, though, aren't you?" Jack checked with her. "I mean, you can't do that to him like his."

"He is totally out of it, Jack," Martha assured the Captain.

"He's not. He is feeling it."

"He won't remember," James advised.

"That doesn't mean it's not hurting," Jack argued.

"We're going to have a whole load of different issues when we do have to put him under a complete general anaesthetic," Martha suggested to the Captain. "Believe me when I tell you that this is the best way to do it. He doesn't know that he is hurting when we hurt him, it just hurts. He is disassociated from it. He won't know about it at all. I reduced his ankle in the TARDIS to get the blood flow and he screamed blue murder, but, when we asked him about it later on he didn't remember. It is the ketamine, but the problem is that he metabolises it quickly so we need to do it," Martha instructed. Jack nodded trusting she'd only ever do what was best for the Time Lord, even if it seemed horrible.

Martha drew new lines on the plaster so it was taken down across the side of his knee. It would still keep hi knee still but it bared it halfway down each side. James cut it with the saw, but it was a tighter curve so harder to get a smooth line so Martha then used some plaster pincers to clip it into a smooth edge, but had to put the tool against his knee and each time she did the Doctor groaned.

"He's doing okay," Barb assured Jack when she watched the Captain clutching the Doctor's hand and stroking his head. She indicated to his heart rates, they were only very slightly elevated. They certainly weren't racing the way they had been when they cast his leg and the ketamine ran out. "When he starts to complain verbally that is when we will start to worry."

"Gerald, can you get a 250ml syringe and a sterile 3mm hollow needle please," Martha instructed as she swabbed the side of the Doctor's knee. The position of the bones in his knee meant that it was going to be easier for her to go in from the inside compared to the outside. She painted iodine over the taut swollen dome of skin that looked nothing like a knee anymore. His knee wasn't exactly in line so she had to be sure she was going to push the needle into the gap in the middle of his knee and not hit bone and risk breaking the needle. She felt deeply into the side of the swollen joint to find the right place, then she pushed the needle deep in.

The needle was 3mm wide and looked massive to Jack. It went into the Doctor's knee a full two and a half inches so it had to be right in the middle of his leg. Jack wasn't squeamish and he found it quite fascinating to watch, but he felt sickened by the way that the Doctor's cries escalated to screams as Martha held his leg and pushed the needle in.

"You're okay, Doctor," Barb assured the Time Lord. She then looked to Jack. "Talk to him and tell him it is alright. He might be able to hear at this point. Tell him it is okay and it's going to help him to feel better." Barb indicated to the fluid that Martha was drawing out of his knee. "It is going to feel tonnes better with all that gunk out of the middle of the joint. It's all putting pressure on his knee from the inside too."

Martha drew a full syringe of blood out of his knee. There was some clear straw coloured fluid marbling through it as well when it entered the needle but it quickly all mixed together. She filled the syringe and then she swapped it over for another one and managed to get another quarter of a syringe of fluid out of his knee. It had to be about 350mls of fluid.

"Do you want a 2.5mm drain?" Gerald asked her when she didn't seem to be able to get any more fluid out using the syringe.

"Yes, please, and I think we can site it where we are. We've definitely got access," she confirmed. She clipped off the syringe and left the needle in place. Gerald gave her a packet and she broke it open and revealed that there was a short section of stiff tube. It was 2.5mm in diameter so she could poke it up through the middle of the needle and into his knee. She then pulled the needle out over the top of the tube leaving it poking out the inside of his knee like he had been stabbed with it. It was only sticking out about an inch, but she then attached a more flexible bit of tubing to the end of it and attached to that was a vacuum pouch. It would draw and collect the fluid from his knee preventing it from building up any more, reducing the pain, and the overall swelling. She taped it all into place.

"That looks good," James confirmed as he looked at the drain Martha had put in. "So, let's get on and manipulate this troublesome bone fragment and see if that reduces the neurological pain he is enduring." James didn't want to cut too much of the cast away along the length of his leg. It was clear to see where the fractures were in his shin because there was a visible dent where there was no bony definition despite the swelling and the fluid. "Let's see if we can do it without cutting the cast away first," James suggested. He felt the Doctor's shin to feel where the main break was. The fragment he believed to be causing at least some of the issues was about an inch and a half long and was located about an inch beneath the uppermost end of the mid-shin fractures, angled towards the inside of the Doctor's leg where the Saphenous vein was.

"Noooo…" the Doctor moaned.

"It's okay, Doc, it won't be long." Jack caressed his head.

"Gerald, pass me the flexible two inch depressor please," James instructed and Gerald passed him what looked a bit like a cross between a plastic lolly pop stick and a shoe horn. It was flexible and bendy and it had a rubberised coating so that it would not slip out of place once in position. James found the right place on the Doctor's leg and then he slid the depressor between the cast and the Doctor's leg. The foam inside the cast gave him room to do it. He got it into position and then he had to angle it into the Doctor's leg with enough force to lift and rotate the fragment of bone away from the nerves.

"No, no, no… no touching…" the Doctor complained.

"Doctor? It's Barb, can you hear me love?" The nurse asked him and got no response from him. She gently pulled his lower eyelids down and revealed to Jack that he remained out of it. He remained heavily sedated. "We need to keep talking to him now," Barb advised the Captain. "When he starts to respond that is when we start to pressurise those two to stop and leave him alone." Barb explained. She pulled a face at James when he regarded her, but he smiled at the sentiment.

"Right, last bit and it should be done." James knew in his head what the fractures looked like and how they would move. "Hold the cast very still please." He instructed. Both Martha and Gerald held the Doctor's leg and James placed the flat of his hand over the Doctor's shin between the edges of the split cast and then he held the depressor with the other. He pulled the stick inwards and pushed down into the main break with the heel of his hand. He was actually taking him shin fractures further out of line, but so they were away from the nerves he feared they were aggravating if not damaging. The Doctor howled like he was being slowly slaughtered. He moved on the bed, raising his arm up over his head. It wasn't a very well-coordinated move but it was a further indication that he was starting to come round again.

"James?" Barb got his attention so that he knew that they were running out of time.

"I know, but that should be…" He twisted the heel of his hand slightly. "…it." James let him go, but he left the plastic depressor in place. It stuck out the side of the cast. "Let's get another scan and make sure, but I felt the fragment move. It should be free of the nerve line now." James was content that it had been successful. He hoped that it reduced the pain he was in, because if it didn't he wasn't quite sure what else they could do.

Martha fetched the box of ice packs from in the store as James took the scan with Gerald. She took four of them out of the box and activated them, crushing and twisting them in her hand to get the gel to frost over. She placed them along the line of the cast. They had a protective felt covering so the skin would not get burned of frost bitten. She covered his leg from his knee right down to his ankle with the ice. They would have to take them on and off every half an hour or so, but they would last for up to eight hours. Martha thought they might last up to nine or ten with the Doctor's reduced body temperature. They had plenty more, and they could be reactivated, so she could make sure that they always had ice to put on. She put one to one side so that she could get him to put it on his face as well.

Working together James and Martha added another two wires to the bed and the elevating sling on the bed. They gave it a full lateral stability so that his leg could not accidentally swing or shift in the sling and they raised it up so his foot was a full two and a half feet above the level of the bed. He was not going to be able to get out of the bed at all until the surgery now the cast was split and he had the knee drain in, so while he remained under the influence of the ketamine Martha, James, Gerald, and Barb all worked to get a soft foam mattress in place to make the bed more comfortable for him.

"Well done," James commented when they had finished. "That should help him a lot." He advised and then looked to Martha. James confirmed on the san that the bone fragment was situated within the line of his tibia and not protruding too far into the soft tissues even if the orientation of it was not good. "Call me back if it appears it has not worked."

"You're okay," Jack assured the Doctor. He stroked his sweat dampened hair back from his forehead. He looked so pale and clammy as he moaned, fogging the oxygen mask again as he did.

"He should rest under the level of the ketamine for a while now, Jack," Martha told him. The Captain nodded his understanding but he didn't stop gently caressing his head in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "Once he has come round from that we'll swap the drugs over for him and hopefully he will be a lot more comfortable an he'll be able to get some proper rest," Martha offered. "Do you want a coffee?" she asked the Captain knowing that Jack had found the whole procedure an ordeal in its own right.

"I will fetch it," Gerald advised. "Should I make the Doctor a cup of tea yet?"

"No, he will want it hot when he wakes up, and, please don't make him UNIT supplied tea again," Martha commented. "He will have breakfast tea the same as me."

"Does he not like the UNIT blend?"

"Tastes… like dishwater…" the Doctor mumbled.

"Ah, so you are awake then?" Martha checked.

"Someone mentioned tea. Of course he is," Jack smiled and then caressed the Doctor's head. He impulsively kissed his clammy brow. The Doctor frowned slightly, but didn't complain.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Doctor?" Gerald asked him.

"Please."

"I am going to let the ketamine get out of your system again and then we will swap the drugs over."

"It is out," the Doctor slurred sleepily.

"A bit more out than this." Martha didn't argue with him but Jack laughed quietly at the idea that the Doctor thought he was no longer under the influence.

It was while he was having his cup of tea that the cowboy mounted up again. It wasn't a raging bull or a red blooded stallion, but I still gave a fair ride around the ring. The cowboy rode the new mount around the arena raising the expectations of the crowd and dashing the Doctor's hopes and spirits back into the ground. It hadn't worked as well as they had hoped. The drugs, pain, and exhaustion broke the Doctor and he simply cried, even as Martha tried to assure him that he still had the combination of Bladamine and dijalipam to try. The Doctor cried until he fell into a restless dose that was rudely interrupted by the cowboy again. Did he never get tired of being bucked off?


	12. Chapter 12

"How are we doing with the ketamine, now, Doctor?" Martha asked him half an hour or so later.

"I think it's gone," he accepted. "The dizziness has cleared."

"Okay, good, so let's see how the new drug helps," Martha commented. She got one of the drip packs and went to swap it over with the one he had up already.

"What's in it?" the Doctor looked at the bag curiously.

"It's just saline. It's going to run on a four hour drip rate. It's got Bladamine and dijalipam set at the right concentration that you will receive 5ml of Bladamine and 0.5ml of dijalipam an hour when it runs. I've locked the titration pump to ensure it maintains the correct speed."

"Why is it purple?"

"I've dyed it purple," Martha told him.

"Why would you do that?"

"So that no one mistakes it for standard saline. It's just a natural food dye," Martha explained. "The red label indicates it is toxic so care needs to be taken. I've prepared 24 hours' worth so far so we minimise the risk of accidentally coming into contact with dijalipam. You don't need to worry about the colour, it's actually just beetroot."

"I don't like beetroot," the Doctor complained.

"Seriously?" Martha just looked at him and then laughed. "You're not going to be able to taste it, Doctor. It's going straight into your arm. You won't even know it is there." She hooked it up to the canola instead of the drip that was there already. "It's okay to run it slowly because you don't need the fluid just the medication. So, let's see how that does. In combination with the split cast and the ice it should reduce the neurological pain considerably," Martha commented. "Do you want me to give you a small dose of the dijalipam to get it into your system ahead of the drip?"

"No, I don't think so. It will start to take effect quickly if it is going to work."

"Alright, and it is a muscle relaxant?"

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"Do you want another cup of tea, Doctor?" Gerald asked him. He'd been warned by Martha that the Doctor would drink more tea than any other patient they'd had in recent months.

"Not just now."

"No?" Martha looked at him curiously. Gerald went and got an ice pack for his face even though they had likely got past the point where the coldness would prevent any bruising or swelling. Martha guessed it would feel nice against the bruising that had to be tender and throbbing.

"How long will it be until we know if the drugs work?" Jack asked Martha, but she in turn looked to the Doctor. They were his medications so he would have to answer.

"It will take a couple of hours for them to get to a therapeutic level and then we will know," the Doctor advised.

"All we need to do is make sure you rest in the meantime," Martha commented. "Do you want the television on? You could lie and watch a film and when it is finished see if the drugs have had a positive impact"

"Okay." The Doctor didn't know what else there was to do. He laid on the bed unable to move from it and scared to move on it. He was worried that if he tried to change his position at all that it would let the rodeo cowboy out of the stall again, and then what if he didn't go back in. The crowd had not dissipated yet, there were still several keen followers standing on the bottom rail around the paddock, leaning up on the high fence hoping for more action. In a second paddock beside the show area there were several ponies herded in from the wild; mustangs ready to be broken. The cowboys were in conference as to whether they'd continue to work or give up for the day, maybe even for the season. If he moved on the bed then they'd be convinced to carry on.

"What do you want to watch?" Jack asked him as Martha gave the Captain control of the remote control.

"The library is split into genre or there could be something good on the telly," Martha prompted.

"Anything but a western," the Doctor commented. Neither Jack nor Martha knew what his aversion was to Westerns, but they didn't ask him. "No cowboys."

"Okay, well, what about a low budget sci-fi film so you can amuse yourself with all the things that could never happen in a million years and all the things they have got wrong?" Jack had watched such films with the Time Lord before and found the irate commentary amusing. The Doctor shook his head though, he wasn't in the right frame of mind to be watching that kind of film, which would inevitably be about some butch human hero fighting to the death against some misunderstood alien species leaving the alien maimed and dead and alone.

"How about I pick one first?" Martha suggested. "Then you can and then Jack can?"

"Okay."

"Jack, can you go and get some drinks and if you look in the cupboard in the kitchen area you should see it has been stocked with some crisps and biscuits," she prompted. Jack nodded and went out of the room, leaving just Martha with the Doctor.

"If you want to just rest quietly you can?" Martha asked the Doctor wondering if he wanted to watch a film at all.

"A film will be good."

"Do you want to sit up or to lie down any more?" Martha got a control and gave it to him. "This will take the bed up or lower it down again so you can control how you lie. It won't hurt your leg to do it because that is secured," Martha explained. "Are you comfortable enough?"

"Not really."

"I know your leg is not great and I am sorry. There isn't much more that we can do without risking surgery so unless it really does get to the point where we can't continue it's going to have to be managed. Is the rest of you comfortable?"

"I kind of need to urinate?" the Doctor commented quietly. He looked acutely embarrassed. "I'm sorry, it is all the drugs that I've had. They all get broken down to chemical constituents that I can't just internally recycle."

"You don't need to apologise for needing to pee," Martha assure him. "You just need to ask, alright? You're not going to be able to get out of bed until you've had surgery, so we could consider a catheter to make things easier?"

"No." The Doctor frowned at the idea of that. He thought that perhaps he'd rather go through having his leg manipulated and set again without effective pain relief than have a tube shoved into his bladder.

"In that case there is a bottle," Martha got one from the cupboard. "I assume you know how to use one?"

"Yes."

"Do you need a hand or can you manage?" Martha asked him. "We don't really want a spillage and have to change the bed so soon?"

"I'll manage."

"Okay, here you go then," Martha handed him the bottle. She went to leave the room to allow him the chance to pee in some sense of privacy. "Give me a shout when you're finished and I'll get rid of it for you." She advised and then shut the door.

The Doctor found it hard to pee in the bottle. He probably should have dared to sit up a bit more so he could see what he was doing. He shouldn't have to see what he was doing, should he, but the angle of the bottle unnerved him and he worried he was actually going to fill it beyond the safety spillage line. He didn't want to overflow onto the bed, but the relief of peeing meant he couldn't stop once he had started. He was internally panicking and millimetres away from an accident, but it sloshed and he tipped it the right way up and there was not a drop spilled.

He could feel his flesh burning with embarrassment as he called Martha back in. What a thing to be giving to Martha Jones. He handed her the bottle of dark brandy coloured urine to her.

"Is it usually this dark?" Martha asked him. "Is this a normal Time Lord shade?"

"It is more um… concentrated. I don't waste as much fluid," the Doctor commented.

"So, it is normal then?" Martha checked and he nodded. "I don't have to shout at you for not drinking enough?"

"It's normal," the Doctor confirmed.

"Okay," Martha got rid of the wee, washed out the bottle, and then returned it to the Doctor.

"I don't need it again yet."

"Tuck it down the side of the bed so you can reach it when you do," Martha told him. "You don't need to be embarrassed. Even Time Lords pee, right?"

"Yeah."

"And, I take it you also poo," Martha commented and the Doctor felt his face burn all over again. "Doctor?" Martha could see his embarrassment. "You're not going to be able to get out of bed until after your surgery. It is going to be at least two or three days until we can operate, it may be significantly longer. When we've completed the surgery it is again going to be two to three days, maybe as long as a week until you can start to get out of bed. I am sorry that it is not going to be any easier for a while, but we will do what we can to make things more comfortable, and I promise that there is no need to be embarrassed, but you will need to use a bedpan when you need to."

"Okay." The Doctor sighed heavily.

"I will chase Jack up and then we can watch the film. I think I know the ideal one for just now," Martha commented. "Do you mind if I sit and do some paperwork while it is on?" she asked the Doctor. "I've got to do your admission records and some other reports, bits and pieces."

"An autopsy?" the Doctor asked a little puzzled as to what he was talking about.

"Do you remember that?"

"I don't know if I do or not."

"You were pretty high on the ketamine," Martha told him. "I was doing an autopsy when you arrived and I discussed it with Colonel Mace. It's been passed over to another medic to complete, but I will still need to consult on it. I popped down to the autopsy labs to see if he had picked it back up, but he's not yet. If you're up to it and I can get clearance from Colonel Mace to do so, I thought you might like to have a look at it?" Martha suggested.

"What is it?"

"We don't quite know," Martha admitted. "It is a species I have never come across. It was found caged in a crashed vessel of unknown origin. It was already dead, but I've never seen anything like it. The autopsy will be done soon and then we can have a look at the reports together?"

"That might be good," the Doctor accepted.

"I thought so, I will try to get Colonel Mace to allow us to consult on it," Martha commented. "It shouldn't be too hard considering you remain a scientific advisor even if you are officially on medical leave now. Providing that in the meantime you have a chance to rest, eat, and sleep and that the drugs are working," Martha told him. "I'll be deciding if I think you're well enough to look at it and it won't be until tomorrow and only if you feel like it and you want to."

"You're the boss," the Doctor commented.

"Just you remember that," Martha teased, though she probably would have felt better had the Doctor been more interested in the autopsy and more argumentative about her having to seek clearance for him to review the data.

Jack came back in with some drinks and biscuits for the film. Martha got her paperwork and sat at the side table to work and watch the movie at the same time. The Doctor couldn't help but smile slightly when the film started and it was Lilo and Stitch. He loved that film. He thought that it was almost, nearly, his favourite, though Lion King still held that title.

They were beyond the initial credits when the cowboys made their minds up and decided that they weren't going to give up totally. They got a Shetland pony out and gave that a good ride. Even though it was small it was enough. It gave a good fight and it didn't buck the cowboy off. It was stubborn and it didn't settle. It seemed to take a long time. It only left him grimacing and groaning rather than totally losing his composure or passing out. It was better, but whereas Martha mourned that it was not good enough she feared that it was as good as it was going to get. The pony eventually gave up and the Doctor tried to focus on the film rather than count down the time it took the cowboys to lasso and prepare the next pony to take into the paddock or breaking in. It was clear they were going to be relentless.

It did not matter how he tried, the Doctor could not rest. Even with the adjusted cast, manipulated bone fragment, and the new drugs he couldn't rest. The enthusiasm of a world class rodeo cowboy had gone as had the cheering of a championship's crowd, but they had given way to clumsy novices. They were breaking in the young ponies that were stubborn and prolonged if not as energetic. It remained a regular occurrence. At least three, sometimes four or five times an hour he was left groaning and grimacing as the pain increased.

Sometimes it was worse than others, sometimes it lasted longer than others, but that only served to draw his focus more. Not only was he waiting for the next stead to be taken into the paddock, but he was waiting to find out how strongly it was going to object to being ridden and how determined it was to buck the novice cowboy off or before it would give in to be trotting round on a leading rein in circles to flinch and give the occasional buck if the rider dug their spurs in to control the animal.

It meant that Lilo and Stitch did nothing to lift his mood, especially not because he missed what he considered the best bit in the whole film with Pudge the weather controlling fish that couldn't eat tuna sandwiches. He refrained from asking if they could rewind the movie so he could watch that bit again. He thought that might betray even his sensibilities. He'd lost interest in the film though.

"I'm going to put the order into the kitchen for tea," Martha told the Doctor and Jack. "What do you two boys want to eat?"

"Did she just call us boys?" Jack asked the Doctor incredulously.

"I think she did."

"How old are you?" Jack asked the Doctor.

"Oh, nine hundred and five give or take a century or five," he commented. "You?"

"A couple of thousand," Jack shrugged. They both looked at Martha. "We're not boys."

"Perhaps I was referring to mentality rather than physicality?" Martha stated with a sense of accusation. "What would you like for your dinner tonight?"

"What are the choices?" Jack checked.

"There is an a la carte menu in the evening, so they make to order outside of the barracks, and you don't want to eat from the barracks if you can help it," Martha chuckled. "They think little hotdogs in a can of beans makes it gourmet."

"I love those little hotdogs," Jack commented.

"Me too, can't beat a good hotdog," the Doctor agreed.

"I will get them to put some tins from the NAAFI into the cupboards in here, but for tonight, this is the weekly menu." She got a laminated card down from the wall. She handed it to the Doctor and Jack looked over his shoulder at it. There were four different choices of main meal depending on what day of the week it was.

"What day is it?" the Doctor surprised Martha and Jack by not knowing, but then she guessed that he'd not been piloting and he had more things on his mind when he arrived than date and day. "I bet it's a Sunday," he grumbled.

"It's not a Sunday, it's a Friday." Martha advised him. "Which is why I'm putting our orders in early. The cod and chips is good, but it can run out quite quickly."

"Cod and chips sounds good to me." Jack didn't bother to look at the card so he left the Doctor to mull over it. The Time Lord read through the choices but nothing leapt out at him. He didn't much feel like eating anything at all. He still felt pretty nauseous and sick and now he had pepper ribs rumbling around in his stomach as well.

"You are going to need to eat something, Doctor," Martha warned him. "The medication I will be giving you to help you sleep should be taken about an hour after eating. You don't want to take them on an empty stomach."

"The Brigadier and I always had steak and kidney pudding."

"You can still have it, but on Tuesdays and Saturdays. You can have that tomorrow if you want?" Martha prompted. "Fridays is fish or chicken with chips, and beef or veggie chilli with rice or chips," Martha commented.

"I'm not really hungry."

"How about I order a chicken and a fish?" Martha suggested. "I don't mind which and they both come with chips. You can decide when they get here. The chilli might not be the best idea if you're feeling nauseous, but you can choose chicken or fish or we can share and you can have a bit of both late? Or, you could just have chips, or I could make toast or you can have a sandwich. What you don't eat I'm sure our food hoover will demolish, so I'll order a fish for Jack, and a fish and a chicken for you and I am we can decide later."

"Okay."

"I'll do that." Martha went off to give the order for their meals to Gerald and gave him the instruction to see if James would be staying late enough to eat and what he wanted, and to get the orders for the late shift to make sure they all went in. Gerald was due to go off shift at half six but Martha invited him to order and join them as well, if he wanted to.

When Martha returned to the East Wing she was pushing a trolley. It was laden with brown folders some of which were hanging neatly from the trolley rack and others which were stacked on top of it. There were binders at the bottom and some large reference books.

"What is all that?" Jack asked as Martha parked it up.

"I've still got some work to do," Martha commented.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" Jack offered himself, and the Doctor, up to assist if they could.

"No, I don't think so. I've just got to review all the drug charts of our outpatients on long term medications to see if they just get standard repeats in which case we will order the drugs in ready, or, if they need adjustments in which case I'll get them in for a review meeting and a check-up over the next week or so."

"Why are you doing that if you're the boss?" the Doctor asked her. "Isn't that a job one of the more junior doctors should be doing?"

"They could it and they normally would, but I've agreed to show Gerald how to do it, and, since I'm just sitting in here there is no harm me working through them tonight. I don't mind and some of my normal duties will get reassigned so I'm on base. I'm not going to be able to stay in here with you all the time though, Doctor," Martha warned him in advance.

"Okay."

"We've got quite a generous medical staff compared to the shortages experienced in other areas, but, it does not stretch to one on one doctoring. I do have other patients and I do have other duties. I will have to take on some additional duties that I'd not normally be doing as I will be remaining on site. Tomorrow I was due to go and visit some patients off campus. I will reassign another medic to go and do that, but I will have to pick up what they were doing and it was likely a clinic. I can't drop everything I'm responsible for because you have broken your leg," Martha commented.

"I know." The Doctor didn't expect her to. "I just didn't know where else to go."

"You did exactly right to come here, and, I'll make sure you have everything you need. I just won't be able to sit in here all day every day. There may be times when there are emergencies and I will have to leave you. There will always be someone else in the East Wing unit with you, but it might be Gerald, or, one of the nurses."

"Not James?" The Doctor pouted.

"James won't be assigned to sit in here, no," Martha commented. "I know he can isn't the friendliest of people, but he is the best, and he will do everything he can to help sort your leg out. I expect Jack will be here a fair bit over the next few days?" Martha looked to the Captain.

"Torchwood will take care of itself and Gwen will do her thing. There is no reason for me to rush back off again. I can stay for as long as you want me to," Jack commented. "And, Sarah Jane said she'd be back in tomorrow to visit so I'm sure there will be plenty of people to keep you company," Jack assured the Time Lord.

"Thank you," the Doctor appreciated the amount they were looking after him.

"You're welcome." Jack rubbed the Time Lord's shoulder. "We'll get you running off into time and space again."

"I hope so."

"You will," Martha assured him more formally. "As long as you're compliant with the treatment then you should make a good recovery. We will do everything that we can, but, you need to make sure that you do what you can to be a good patient too," Martha commented. "I know that is going to be hard for you the minute you start to feel better, but you will need to. The injuries are not so serious that we don't think you will make a good enough recovery, but, they are serious enough that if you don't behave you could jeopardise your recovery."

"I will behave."

"I'll believe that when I see it." Jack laughed.

"I will," the Doctor insisted.

"You need to ensure that you don't cross too many lines with regards to UNIT either," Martha warned the Doctor seriously. "I know that you're still technically on staff here as a scientific advisor, but that is purely a technicality and it may not count as enough to insure your continued treatment beyond the immediate here on base. If you are particularly difficult with people like James and Colonel Mace then they it may raise questions about whether you should be treated here once you are safe to be discharged," Martha warned him and the Doctor frowned as he took in what she was saying.

"I'd have nowhere to go?"

"I'd make sure that you have somewhere to go and so would Jack, but it wouldn't be as easy for any of us than if we can just maintain your treatment here at UNIT. I'm not saying that is going to happen, I am just saying that there are steps you should consider to make sure it does not happen. I don't think for a minute that Colonel Mace would ask you to leave, he's not that kind of man. He has a good heart, he respects you and knows at least some of what you have done for the planet and for UNIT, and, I think he does actually quite like you – though, goodness knows why when you consider your attitude towards him. It would go a long way if you were to thank him for letting you get treated here and for his concern for you," Martha advised the Doctor. "He is a good man, a good commander, and he does not deserve your attitude."

"You've not been winding the base commander up already have you?" Jack teased the Doctor. "That is like peeing off the designated driver. You just don't do it. It's not a particularly clever thing to do."

"I haven't." The Doctor pouted, but Martha just looked at him. "What did I do?"

"I don't believe for a moment that you don't know, Doctor," Martha stated. "I am not going to spend the next few months playing mediator between you and the Colonel. You're my friend, Doctor, but so is he."

"Mace is one of the good guys," Jack commented. "I've not had many dealings with him directly, but I've never heard a bad word said of him." He looked at the Doctor curiously. "Do you think differently?" Maybe the Doctor knew something about him that they didn't. The Time Lord didn't normally just immediately take dislike to someone without good reason.

"There as some animosity between the Doctor and the Colonel when they had to work together before," Martha commented. "When I called him back to help investigate ATMOS and it turned out the Sontarans were behind it?" She looked to Jack and he nodded his confirmation that he knew about it. Torchwood had been doing a lot of work behind the scenes on determining what ATMOS was. "The Doctor was downright rude and he ran roughshod over the Colonel and his authority as base commander and mission lead from the start," Martha commented.

"I told him not to engage with the Sontarans."

"Yes you did," Martha confirmed. "But that is all you told him. From what I gather from the reports, given that I had been cloned at the time and was not around, you did not give the Colonel all the information that he needed to come to the same decision. You simply told him not to engage with them and expected him to listen to you without any kind of back up. Would you have followed such an order on blind faith regardless of who it came from?" Martha asked the Doctor.

"Maybe not."

"Yet, you expected the Colonel to act on your say so alone? You had the information about the Sontarans and the cordelain signal and you did not share it with him though it would have taken seconds to do so," Martha reminded the Doctor of the events. "As the base commander in a battle situation he can only act with the information that he has and what he knows and he had to defend the position or let the Sontarans succeed."

"He sent Ross to his death."

"Ross did die, as did many other soldiers that day," Martha confirmed. "Colonel Mace gave the order that put them in the place where they were. Colonel Mace also saved a number of lives and resolved the situation using the Valiant and the steel jacketed bullets once he had found out about the cordelain signal. It got around the problem despite you telling him that it was impossible for them to succeed. There is no knowing if different orders were given if Ross would have survived, or if he had been killed in another incident, or if someone else would have ended up being killed instead. You only know about Ross because he was assigned by Colonel Mace to escort you to the Rattigan Academy," Martha accused. "Your assumption that because Colonel Mace attempted to engage him with his call sign and not his name meant that he neither knew or cared about him hurt the Colonel more than he would ever admit."

"In a combat situation names would never be given over the radio network," Captain Jack commented. "That is why call signs are given."

"Ross was Greyhound 40. There were 79 Greyhound call signs active that day and the Commander knew each and every one of them by name as well as by call sign," Martha advised the Doctor. "While you left as soon as the Sontaran threat was over, and, I know that was due to the TARDIS taking over, but I also know that if the TARDIS had not whisked us away that you would have dropped me back and left just as quickly," Martha commented almost daring the Doctor to suggest that he would have stayed and assisted with the clean-up. They all knew that was not what he did. He didn't comment, just continued to listen.

"In the days after the Sontaran incident Colonel Mace made the trip personally to see the families of every one of the men and women who lost their lives while under his command, including Ross's. He attended every one of the memorial services and he knows all of them. We have three men who are still receiving treatment for injuries received that day. They will not return to active duty and they are no longer being treated by our base personnel, but Colonel Mace still visits them all on a weekly basis. He cares very much for the men and women under his command, but he had a job to do that day and all indications are that he did it well."

"I've not come across anything to suggest otherwise," Captain Jack agreed.

"More men and women would have died had you not been involved, Doctor, but likewise, more men and women would have died if Colonel Mace was not in command, and he cares deeply for all of them who lost their lives, including Ross," Martha commented. "Whereas your involvement was integral to the outcome, I think you made things more difficult for Colonel Mace than you needed to and for no other reason than you decided you didn't like him."

The Doctor didn't say anything in response. What could he say to that? He had been suitably ashamed and chastised. He sighed and bowed his head. He almost wished the cowboy would mount up and give him a distraction, but for once he seemed to be on a tea break.

"That was a bit harsh, wasn't it?" Jack questioned Martha. He didn't doubt that the Doctor had been hard to get along with and he knew that he could be a challenge, but he was in pain and being exhausted by it. He didn't need to be made to feel any worse than he was already.

"No, I don't think so," Martha commented. "He needs to accept that he has come to UNIT and that it is not just me that is helping him, but it is UNIT. These are UNIT facilities and UNIT resources. They will give ensure that he has everything that he needs, but he also needs to know that he can't go around offending the people providing him that help because in his view they have different ideals, when in fact, their ideals are likely not that different," Martha commented.

"He makes snap judgements about everything and he has made incorrect judgements about Colonel Mace. Since he has got here today he has already gone on about guns, but this is a military base. Colonel Mace does carry a gun, but that does not mean he is gun-ho or wrong. Colonel Mace can not only tell you every time he has discharged his gun, but he can also tell you every time he has drawn it. Could you do that, Jack?"

"No," Jack admitted.

"The first thing that he said to the Colonel during the Sontaran incursion was that he wished that the Brigadier was there. He was not prepared to give the Colonel a chance from the start. What he does not realise and never deigned to find out as that the Brigadier rates Colonel Mace as one of his best commanders. Colonel Mace was probably a cadet when he was assigned here as Scientific Advisor. The Brigadier gave him the base command post because he considers the Colonel to be well equipped, properly experienced, and a friend."

"The Brigadier is my friend," the Doctor commented.

"So would Colonel Mace be if you gave him a chance," Martha commented. "He is a good man," she insisted. "And, I think you'd actually quite like him if you made the effort. I know you don't like it when people tell you off, and I'm sorry that you're feeling so unwell, but you need to know that you have done a disservice and injustice toward him. You're going to be here for a long while recovering from your injury. No necessarily as an inpatient, but it is going to be months before you are TARDIS fit. You don't want to be banging heads with the Colonel the whole time, especially not when there is no need. Give him a chance," Martha insisted. "And, that goes for you as well, Jack."

"Me? What have I done?" Jack asked.

"Nothing yet, but you have breached all of our protocols at UNIT thinking it is a joke," Martha told him. "Colonel Mace is a good commander. He gets a lot of respect from his men because he deserves it. He I also well-liked by them and they are incredibly loyal to him, not only because he is base commander and due to rank, but because of his actions and the way in which he leads and guides them. He has a hard job to do especially as UNIT is rebuilding and everyone is so young. He does not need you making it more difficult for him, because he could make things more difficult for you too."

"He'd not make me leave?" the Doctor worried.

"No, of course he wouldn't, but when you're out of bed and you're an outpatient you are going to need some distraction. He could grant you your old degree of freedom in terms of your access to UNIT facilities and classified information. I have seen the photographs of your old laboratory, Doctor. You would be quite amazed by the new facilities we have available. While you're grounded you could have access to those areas and to classified information and you could keep yourself occupied and you could assist us in so many ways and perhaps influence areas of UNIT that you're not as content with. Or, the Colonel could restrict you totally to civilian status with no access to information and so that you can only move around the base under escort. He will make that decision, I can only influence those decisions that are based on your medical recovery. If you set out to antagonise him then you won't get anywhere with him, if you don't give him the respect he deserves then you will not get on well with the rest of the men."

"Respect should be earned," Jack commented.

"I know, but so should a blatant disregard and distrust," Martha countered. "It should not be based on a uniform or based on an old side arm gifted to him by a certain Brigadier," Martha commented. "I'm not saying that either of you could be bosom buddies, quite frankly that would be weird, but, you do need to make at least a small amount of effort to be polite."

"I'll be nice," the Doctor sighed.

"Good."

"I didn't realise that he went to all the memorial services."

"He went to all of them after the daleks attacked the base too," Martha commented. "He was wounded and he still went against medical advice."

"Your advice?"

"No, I was based in New York. It was only after when I came back here. We are almost back up to strength now but there is a long way to go before UNIT is back to where we were before the daleks. You could help with that Doctor while you're here, and I am sure that in a proper forum that Colonel Mace will be receptive and grateful."

"Everyone I've come in contact with seems very young," Jack commented and Martha nodded her agreement.

"Ethan is only 20 years old," the Doctor added.

"Private Coates is one of the newest intake. He is carrying the rank of private but he would otherwise be considered a senior cadet within UNIT. There are two units of cadets that have been fast tracked into the ranks to assist running the base systems while they are training," Martha explained. "They each have a role to do such as escorting or mechanics on base and they do their training at the same time. It is working quite well. It is one of Colonel Mace's initiatives to keep the base running while we rebuild without forgoing any training protocols." Martha explained. "A lot of the young men would otherwise be unemployed and some would have nowhere to live. Here they get a good job, they get valuable training, and they have their accommodation in the barracks. They are valued and learning."

"Don't you worry that they are too young and that after all that happened with the aftermath of the daleks that introducing those young men into UNIT will end up breeding some kind of alien hating soldiers?" Jack asked Martha.

"Not at all," Martha assured him and then smiled slightly. "Because, even if he will never see eye to eye with Colonel Mace, he is unwittingly in partnership with him already," Martha commented.

"How?"

"Colonel Mace is a good teacher and there is a solid psychological assessment process to go along with the medical recruitment that I provide, but when it comes to interspecies interactions and relationships and how there can be benefits from them, the Doctor is the primary case study." Martha commented and then laughed at the Doctor's expression. "You are back to being in a place where everyone here knows your name and everyone here knows at least some of what you have done."

"Fantastic," the Doctor grumbled without any enthusiasm.

"It is really," Martha insisted. "Or we are going to be running UNIT with men that have lost family members to the daleks or to the Sontarans, or to the Cybermen, or the Slitheen, or to the Sycorax, or the Autons? The list goes on and on but when they find out that there are people also protection the peoples and interests of the Earth who are not human it makes them think. It would be very easy for the modern UNIT to be highly xenophobic, but Colonel Mace is one of the biggest opponents of that view point and will discipline and court Marshall any one with the attitude. Your cast studies are highly discussed and that can only be a good thing under the circumstances, can't it?"

"I'm a case study," the Doctor didn't seem too impressed.

"Perhaps you could give a talk while you're here," Jack teased the Doctor, but the Time Lord just grumbled and then grimaced. The tea break was over and the cowboy dragged out a fair sized pony into the paddock and mounted up as the pain raged.

Luckily the pain was over within a few minutes, but it had been enough to stop all conversation if not for the Time Lord to cry out or lose consciousness. Jack had taken his hand, but the Doctor didn't know what to do with himself when it raged up and down his leg. He'd pressed himself down into the mattress and brought his left leg up almost to his chest and it still hadn't helped, nor had letting go of Jack's hand and holding his head as if somehow squeezing his skull would stop his leg from hurting. In the end all it had done was remind him that he had a six inch gash in the side of his head as well which while stitched remained tacky enough that he had a line of blood on his hand.

"Is this the best it is going to get for him?" Jack asked as he retook the Doctor's hand. He could see it wasn't as bad as it had been, but it wasn't good enough. He suspected that if a pain was enough to leave the Doctor moaning that if either he or Martha was subjected to a comparable pain they'd be screaming or unconscious.

"Yeah, it is for now." Martha was apologetic in her tone. "It's not going to be any easier until we can operate and stabilise him properly. Once we've eaten I can give him something to help him sleep for a while, but it is going to be tough. The only hope is that he can ride it out long enough for the swelling to go down and that we don't have to intervene. As horrible as it is to see him in such pain it has now reduced enough that it is not having such a dramatic physical effect on him. It is the effect the pain has on his heart rates, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation we will use as an indicator as to whether it becomes a surgical emergency, and then we will have to operate regardless of whether it is an optimum time to do it. If it's not dangerous then we're just going to have to help him ride it out," Martha explained to Jack. The Doctor had calmed down enough to be able to listen to what Martha had said and he sighed as tears welled. "I'm sorry," Martha caressed his head. She gave him a wipe so he could clean the bit of blood from his hand.

"It's okay," the Doctor accepted in exhaustion, he knew Martha was right and that there wasn't anything else they could really do. He was just stuck and he didn't know if he would be able to stand it even if his hearts decided that they could.

"It's not okay, Doctor," Martha argued sensitively. "I am sorry you're in pain, but there isn't much more we can do but try to manage it." Martha confirmed with him. "I do think that you need to face up to it a little more and that might make you feel better emotionally, and if you are less worried then you may be able to cope with the pain more easily."

"What do you mean?"

"I downloaded the footage of your accident when I was in the TARDIS," Martha advised the Doctor coming clean that she had seen it for the first time. "I wanted to know what force you'd put your leg in to cause the injuries you have. It will be useful to know for when we do start to repair the damage surgically. I saw how your leg got stuck in the ladder and what you had to do to free yourself and get to the handbrake. I can't imagine anything more painful or frightening when you were in the vortex and on your own. I am sorry you had to go through that, but the impression you have of your injuries may be worse than what they are. I'm not going to molly coddle you and tell you it's all going to be alright without work, but I've not seen anything that you can't recover from. I understand you've had a massive shock and a horrible day, but it has happened now. The sooner you are ready to accept that it has happened and to discuss what you have done to yourself and review your injuries the sooner you will be able to put your mind more at ease, and also my mind at ease in terms of any expertise you can provide with regard Time Lord skeletal and soft tissue injuries, tissue, and repair beyond what we already discussed when you hurt your wrist."

"When did you hurt your wrist?" Jack asked the Doctor curiously.

"A couple of years ago," the Doctor offered.

"What did you do? Break it?"

"He dislocated it completely, I was sure we were going to find all kinds of broken bones in it when we got it scanned, but not a single break. He'd just managed to dislocate his whole hand."

"How did you do that?" Jack checked.

"Ice skating."

"Showing off," Martha added and chuckled.

"I wasn't showing off."

"Oh, come off it?" Martha scoffed. "Mr I can do a triple axle jump at top speed just watch this?" she challenged him and the Doctor sighed. "He was showing off and he went flying. Screamed like a banshee and then decided that he was alright and he'd just sort himself out despite me being with him." Martha shook her head slightly as she recalled the events to Jack. "Right now, though, Doctor?" She turned her attention back to him. "You need to know what you have done to your leg so you can start to come to terms with it."

"Martha is right," Jack agreed. "You should find out what you've done to yourself. I don't think it can be any worse than what you must imagine it is like."

"What if it is?" the Doctor asked worried.

"Then at least you will know," Jack advised him. "And perhaps offer some insight on how to help you recover the best way."

"And, Doctor?" Martha began seriously. "When you are back on your feet and before you go off in the TARDIS again you and I will be having a very serious talk about ladder safety and the varying degrees of stupidity," Martha warned him. The Doctor made a face that was hard to fully decipher with the bruising and swelling across the left side of it. His right eye was definitely beginning to blacken too but it was not as swollen. "You are lucky you didn't regenerate yourself."

"Maybe," the Doctor accepted quietly.

"So, with that in mind shall we discuss your leg injury?" Martha asked him. The Doctor looked like he was going to break down as he shook his head. "Okay, then I will discuss what you have done to your foot," Martha decided. "I want you to listen to me and then think about it and then we can discuss it."

"Okay." The Doctor knew he was not going to get away without discussing it now Martha had decided it was in his best interests even though he was sure it was just going to be tantamount to emotional torture on top of the torturous rodeos taking place within his smashed leg.

"You have got three metatarsal fractures. They are of the fifth, fourth, and third metatarsals and they are central to the arch of your foot. They are not too badly displaced. During surgery we will probably stabilise the third and possibly the fourth with wires, but the fifth will just heal up on its own. You also have a break through the body of your calcaneus. It is oblique and it looks like it was caused by the direct impact of your heel on the floor. We manipulated it into a good position for casting, but I expect that we will put one or two screws in it just to hold it secure while it heals, so, that is what you have done to your foot," Martha told him. "It is not a nice injury to have, and I expect it is incredibly painful, but it is not the end of the world, is it?" Martha asked the Doctor.

"No."

"Do you want to see the latest scan of your foot?" Martha asked him.

"Okay."

Martha took out a tablet and selected the correct image. She then cut it down so that none of the ankle fractures were visible and she used the Touchscreen tablet to flick the image over to the wall screen in the Doctor's room so he could see it easily.

"There you go." Martha enlarged the image. "You can see the breaks along there in your foot. From the footage we downloaded from the TARDIS that is where you first impacted with the rung of the ladder," Martha told him. "We didn't manipulate your foot at all because it's not too bad. You can see the third is slightly out of line but the other two are good. Depending on how it looks on the day we may just wire the third or we will wire the third and the fourth. I personally think that as long as we get the third wired and held in position that it will hold the rest providing that you're compliant with the no weight bearing requirement for healing," Martha suggested. "What do you think?" she asked the Doctor directly.

"It might," he confirmed but there was no enthusiasm in his voice.

"Okay, we will just have to make the judgement when you go into surgery. The fracture in your heel bone is easiest to see if I rotate the image." Martha did that and showed the Doctor the break running diagonally through the tough bone that formed his heel. "It is no longer too badly out of place. James got it back pretty well, but we will either put one or two locking screws up through the body of it just to hold it while it heals. That will anchor it, won't it?"

"Yeah."

"We have done several scans and there are no chips of bone or fragments there which will cause any issue, so it will heal fine won't it?" Martha checked with him.

"It should heal well," the Doctor confirmed and nodded. It looked like there might have been a hint of relief there as well, but he still looked wary of it all.

"So, we have come across no reason to cut your foot off or anything that leads us to think you won't make a full recovery?" Martha prompted.

"No," the Doctor accepted, but then he sighed. "Not yet." He knew hat Martha was trying to do. It might have worked if the cowboy had not decided he had been quiet for too long. He dragged a pony into the paddock, it was definitely a bad tempered beast as it was bucking without warning. Martha's plan shattered as the Doctor buckled under the pain and cried out. The pony was not going to be easily subdued by the cowboy no matter how long he rode him and tried to contain him. It was through fatigue in the end that the pony won and managed to buck the cowboy off to land face down in the dirt.

"He's passed out again." Martha sighed. She glanced at her watch, it was just after five in the afternoon, but James had not yet come down to say he was going off site so she hoped he was still available. She was about to leave the Doctor's side to page him, but the Doctor moaned.

The cowboy picked himself immediately up from the paddock ground. He dusted himself up and grabbed hold of the obstinate pony setting it off in a buckling twisting trip around the paddock again and again. He was not going to give up, but he was not the main show cowboy this time. He had retired for the day, he was young and inexperienced, a novice, and he was thrown for the second time. The novice rodeo star received a wayward kick and remained on the ground for longer, catching his breath as the pony trotted off to the far side of the paddock and snorted its discontent at the assistants going to take it's reins and lead it back out to graze while further assistance was provided to the dazed cowboy.

"Doctor?" Martha rubbed his shoulder to try to bring him back round from a second faint in as many minutes. It had not been as transient as the first the second time round and the Doctor moaned as he regained awareness slowly. He felt sick with the pain and the exhaustion it brought, but it had calmed down to the barely tolerable constant aching and throbbing that it maintained consistently. "Hey?" Martha regarded him. "Are you back with us?"

"Martha," he acknowledged quietly.

"Breathe through your nose," she instructed. "Make use of the oxygen or I will have to put the mask back on," Martha warned him and he sniffed. She rubbed his shoulder and could feel him trembling with the ongoing effect of the pain he was in. "I am going to ring James again an ask him to come back down."

"Please don't?" the Doctor pleaded.

"Why not? This isn't good enough, Doctor. You can't carry on like this, so unless you can tell me something else I can do I need to have James here to consult with. It is his area of expertise," Martha insisted.

"He'll hurt me."

"Only if he has to." Martha wasn't going to tell the Doctor that he wouldn't because if they had to make further adjustments it was going to hurt. "Is there anything you can think of tha we have not tried?" Martha asked the Doctor. "Can you tell me where the pain originates from when it hits you like that?"

"It's everywhere," the Doctor complained. "My entire leg feels like it's being twisted and hammered on."

"Is there anything else you want to try in terms of medication?" Martha asked him.

"The dijalipam should have worked. There isn't anything stronger."

"Then we may have to try a different position again," Martha warned the Doctor. She got the control centre to put a call out to bring James to the East Wing after confirming he had not logged out for the day. When she heard the East Wing sliding doors open and then close she thought it was going to be the orthopaedic surgeon, but she was surprised when Colonel Mace entered.

"Colonel?" Martha queried his attendance with her tone even as she stood and saluted the base commander.

"Doctor Jones," he returned the salute but then visibly relaxed. "As you were," he instructed giving them all permission to stand down. "I heard Mr Lloyd being called," the Colonel revealed. "I was nearby and dropped by to ensure all is okay?" He offered less formally than he may have normally been as he made a personal effort not to put the Doctor off.

"We are having difficulties managing the Doctor's level of pain," Martha advised.

"I see," the Colonel nodded. "That is unfortunate." He wasn't quite sure how to interact informally. "Doctor, is there anything I can do?" he asked the Time Lord directly.

"No, thank you, I don't think so," the Doctor accepted. He remembered what Martha had said to him before. "And, um, thank you for your concern," he offered a little awkwardly. Colonel Mace seemed surprised by the acknowledgement and he nodded his thanks as awkwardly as the Doctor offered his own. Martha couldn't help but smile slightly aware that they were both uncomfortable but trying. She was sure that bridges could be built and that the Doctor would benefit from that following his surgery when he was grounded and bored.


	13. Chapter 13

As the Colonel was about to leave James came into the room. "So, how are we doing?" James asked Martha rather than the Doctor. It confirmed to the Time Lord that it wasn't just because his presence generally meant intolerable pain was due that he did not like him.

"The nerve generated pain has not been sufficiently reduced," Martha advised him. "Has it, Doctor?" She made sure that she confirmed it with the Time Lord. She wondered what was making James seem a little bit off.

"How significant is it?" James asked Martha.

"It has caused him to pass out," Martha suggested.

"And is that due to the drugs as much as the pain?"

"I do not believe so, and, if it were then that would not make it any more acceptable," Martha commented.

"No, of course it wouldn't," James agreed. He glanced at the medical director and saw she looked a bit pissed off with him. He'd not seen her so intent on assisting a patient before, she was a compassionate doctor, but she usually left the hand holding to others, but not now. She was holding the Time Lord's hand tightly. It wasn't even as if she was not the only comfort the Doctor had as the Captain was holding his other hand.

"He can't carry on the way he is," Jack interjected.

"It may be that until we can safely operate that he has to," James advised and the Doctor almost broke into sobs. James moved the ice packs from the front of the Doctor's leg. The drain in his knee had produced some more bloody fluid which was collecting in the pouch. The swelling and oedema in his leg was making his skin shiny and tight. They were going to have to be very careful that no tears were introduced to the skin as it would quickly lose integrity. If they operated there was no way they would be able to close the wounds, so they needed to avoid that unless it became an extreme emergency.

James ran his fingers lightly over the front of the Doctor's shin where it was revealed within the gap of the plaster cast. "You can feel me touching your skin can't you?" James double checked with the Doctor.

"Yes."

"Good, I think there is one last thing I can try," James suggested. He glanced up at Martha and she made sure she had a good hold of the Doctor's hand. The only thing she could think of was changing the position of the bone fragments again. The way James changed his fingers for his thumbs she could see he was thinking the same thing.

"Colonel Mace?" Martha got the base commander's attention. "I was wondering, when the Doctor is rested, whether you would consider allowing me to invite him to consult on the result of Dr Wilson's autopsy findings?" Martha asked hoping to pique the Doctor's interest in her conversation rather than what James was about to do. "I am sure he will be able to offer his expertise and insight. He is aware of the need for discretion in such matters, aren't you Doctor?"

"Yes, of course," the Doctor confirmed. He didn't realise the reason why Martha had suddenly started to talk about autopsies with the Colonel was purely to distract him. "I am curious as to…" the Doctor screeched and arched on the bed as James used the distraction to quickly relocate the bone fragment further out of line by depressing his thumbs into the gap the fractures created in the Doctor's shin. They did not want to have to go down the line of giving him ketamine whiles on dijalipam and Bladamine as the danger of respiratory suppression would become very real even with the Time Lord bypass ability. James applied the pressure for only fifteen seconds but the pain didn't die down immediately and it left him reeling and light headed as the Doctor was close to fainting again. A nausea settled into his stomach as he tried to remember to breathe in through his nose to draw in the oxygen.

"You could have warned him," Jack complained as he cupped the Doctor's face and tried to get him to focus rather than lose consciousness and then have to fight back to awareness again.

"He would have tensed and that would made the pain worse," James advised the Captain. He replaced the ice packs. "Let's get a scan image of that area of his leg, but we can see if that makes a difference."

"What did you do?" Colonel Mace asked. It looked to him like the world class orthopaedic surgeon had just dug his thumbs into the break in the Doctor's leg as if applying a new and evil kind of torture. He had no idea what that could achieve except to cause the unimaginable pain that still left the Doctor breathless and moaning slightly. The scream when he had done it was haunting, the Colonel would have thought it sounded alien and the result of the Doctor being a Time Lord except he had heard men wounded in battle make the same blood curdling ungodly scream of raw agony.

"I manipulated a bone fragment further out of line."

"Out of line?" the Colonel checked, that seemed counterproductive.

"It is likely causing issue with muscle and nerve tissues," Martha commented. "Hopefully by shifting it further out of line it will relieve the pressure and provide further relief. I know it hurt to do it though." She rubbed the Doctor's shoulder. "We would have problems with dijalipam and ketamine if we gave them together, wouldn't we?" she confirmed with the Doctor who just nodded. He felt totally defeated by it all. He couldn't take it anymore. It was too much.

"Do you require any further assistance?" Colonel Mace asked Martha. "If you require further resource or personnel then you have my authority to requisition what you need."

"Thank you, Sir," Martha confirmed. The colonel had not fainted which impressed her. He did however dismiss himself before he could be witness to any further medical abuses of the Time Lord's shattered leg.

"Doctor? I want you to rest quietly for the next thirty minutes and we will see if there is a recurrence of the severe pain," James commented. "If there is then I think we may have to resort to a more invasive resolution, but I hope to avoid it at this stage."

Jack caressed the Doctor's head gently with one hand. The Time Lord was shaking and there was a clammy look and feel to his skin where he was not sweating but he was not dry either. Jack hated seeing the Doctor so vulnerable and at the mercy of the medics and his injury. He wanted to punch James for what he had just done to him, but Martha had supported the action so he knew it had to be right. She'd not have allowed it otherwise, it just seemed so wrong.

The Doctor laid with his eyes closed willing the cowboys to give up. They couldn't possibly continue anymore. They had been working too long hadn't they? They had to be as tired as he was. They could let the horses and the ponies all graze peacefully undisturbed and forget all about breaking them in or the rodeo displays. He didn't even agree with rodeo in normal circumstances. He thought it quite abhorrent and overly stressful on the animals. He certainly didn't agree with them doing it all inside his leg! That was just cruel and evil to all involved.

"How about a cup of tea while we wait?" Martha offered. She knew the Time Lord was at the very end of his endurance and the edge of his tolerance. She was not entirely sure what would happen if he passed it. She hoped he'd just lose consciousness and sleep his exhaustion away to wake stronger and more capable to deal with it.

Gerald went to make the drinks, but James remained in the room. "You need to do what it is you can to relax, Doctor," James advised him.

"It is hard to relax when you're in here," the Doctor grumbled.

"I think I can appreciate that," James accepted. "I do however have your best interests at the forefront of my thinking and my actions. I have little doubt that I will be causing you significant pain on more occasions in the future, but it is a necessity, assuming that you want to be able to walk out of here fully recovered at some point?"

"Do you have to be so blunt?" Jack complained.

"I am sorry if you do not approve, but, my priority has to be the safety and the security of his leg injury. You, Martha, Gerald, and that woman who visited earlier?"

"Sarah Jane," the Doctor advised.

"Yes, you are all responsible for maintaining his security, I am concerned with his leg. He has 15 separate fractures and I need to ensure my focus is on getting them reduced, stabilised, repaired, and healed."

"How many?!" the Doctor balked twisting on the bed to look at Martha and crying out as the pain spiked in his leg again.

"Fifteen," James advised him plainly, but looked to Martha as he did so.

"We've not yet fully discussed his injury," Martha sighed as the Doctor looked like he was about to panic rather than relax.

"Oh, I thought?" James puzzled as he indicated toward the image of the foot fractures remaining up on the screen.

"We started with his foot," Martha commented. "And, had to stop because of the nerve pain."

"Martha?" the Doctor tried to grab at her hand. "Fifteen?" He panicked. He felt saliva fill his mouth as the ever threatening nausea awoke twisting his gut. He must have given something away in his expression because the second his mouth filled with bile and half-digested Chinese pepper ribs Gerald was ready with a cardboard bowl.

The Doctor's whole body convulsed as he tensed and threw up. It caused the pain in his leg to leap up so he inhaled suddenly to cry out and ended up choking on bile, coughing, gagging, and crying out all at the same time in a complete mess.

"Hold him forward, Jack?" Martha instructed as the Doctor heaved to throw up again. Jack supported him up and forward as Gerald held the bowl in place. "Breathe in through your nose and calm yourself down, Doctor," Martha told him. The Doctor coughed and groaned as he collapsed back against Jack rather than the bed. He was shaking quite violently and the effort of throwing up had stolen his last ounce of strength. His leg was hammering out as if the cowboys had gone on parade all of them out in the arena together galloping in a pre-rodeo display. The full championship was not going to be long in coming.

"Doctor, you need to stop being so overwrought," James told him seriously. "Now, this is ridiculous. You have broken your leg but there is no need for all of this panic. I told you that I would fix it and I will, so either trust me and calm down, or we will not get anywhere. Keep yourself still or you will only cause yourself additional discomfort."

Jack held the Doctor against him. He could smell the harsh sourness of bile on his breath and he could feel him shaking. He wasn't just over reacting or being overwrought he was having some kind of physical response. His heart rates were racing and he was struggling to draw breath. Martha took the oxygen line from his nose and attached the mask again. She gave it to Jack to hold for him, if he was going to throw up again he'd not want to have the mask held in place by elastic.

"Gerald, in the top drawer of my desk are some mints. Could you go and fetch them please?" Martha asked him. Gerald nodded and hurried to get them. The Doctor moaned. He turned partially into Jack so he was moaning against the Doctor's chest. It was awkward for Jack as he couldn't hold him properly and get the mask in the right place.

"Take long, slow breaths, Doctor and calm down," Martha encouraged. "You're going to be alright. Don't worry so much. It is okay." Martha assured him. He moaned in pain. "Just concentrate on breathing and relaxing and it will all calm down again."

"Lie back again," Jack eased the Doctor onto the back of the bed again. It was raised up so he could slouch against it rather than be totally flat. He rubbed the Doctor's shoulder and put the oxygen mask in his hand to hold himself. He then went to the foot of the bed. He could see that the whole of the Time Lord's body was tense. Jack uncovered his other foot from beneath the sheet and rubbed it. He could feel the stress right down into his toes as he gently started to rub and massage the arch of his foot in order to give him a distraction and help him to relax. He didn't care if anyone thought it stupid, he just needed to do something more practical to help than hold his hand. Martha had taken over doing that.

"Concentrate on what Jack is doing and nothing else," Martha encouraged. The Doctor's breathing gradually began to calm down again. His heart rates dropped back to being slightly elevated rather than racing with panic and pain. Gerald brought some extra strong mints in from Martha's drawer. She gave one to the Doctor to suck to take the taste of the sick away, hoping that the peppermint would help calm his stomach so he'd not want to be sick again.

"Have you calmed down enough to listen to me?" Martha asked the Doctor. She looked to James. He had moved to stand at the side of the room, leaning back on the counter, he looked perplexed and confused but also aware that he had made a mistake. He just didn't know how to put it right.

"He said… fifteen… breaks?"

"It depends on how you count them," Martha advised the Doctor.

"How… can… it be different?"

"I'll talk you through them," Martha wasn't going to give the Doctor the chance to argue now. "We have already discussed four of them and you agreed they would heal well," she told the Doctor. "And, if I consider the other injuries you have I'd not consider there to be eleven separate breaks left. I would say at the most there is nine and probably technically only seven," Martha commented.

"It still… sounds a lot."

"It is a lot." Martha didn't deny it. "It's not impossible though. Four breaks in your foot is a lot, but they're not that bad are they?" She tried to assure him. "And, one of the breaks we're talking about is an incomplete hairline crack that wouldn't even be plastered in isolation. You'd just have to wear a brace for a couple of weeks and use crutches for that one. It's not even a proper break," Martha told him. "I will tell you what they are and we can discuss them, okay?" Martha wasn't asking him so he could refuse, so he didn't.

"You know that you have a dislocation of your ankle. It is not going to surprise you that it is a fracture dislocation which involves both your tibia and your fibula. Both of the malleolus have broken off and there are fractures through the distal tibia and fibula. The tibia fracture leads into the malleolus so that could technically be considered a single fracture along with the fibula fracture that is quite clean and will come together nicely. We will probably plate and screw the tibia to hold it all together while it heals. I will show you the breaks on the scanner when we have discussed them all and you have calmed own properly," Martha told him. "But you have a broken ankle and on James's count there are four breaks in it. A break in the distal fibula, a break in the distal tibia, and the malleolus on both sides of the ankle joint. We can fix it all together though."

"Okay."

"You also had a dislocated knee. And, again, it is not a surprise that it was a fracture dislocation of your knee. You have got a fracture through your patella which we will wire pretty easily. Then the force put through your knee by the ladder closing on it has created an oblique fracture through the head of your tibia which is one of the more serious fractures we will be dealing with but will come together with fixation. You've also got a partial crack through the head of your femur but it's not complete and it's only a crack. We will have to plate the proximal tibia fracture. Your fibula is complete in your knee which saves you another fracture there, so it could be worse too."

"That's not so bad is it?" Jack asked the Doctor, but the Time Lord just looked at him as if he were mad. It sounded horrible and he was trying not to panic again. They'd not even talked about the ones that scared him the most. Martha had gone from his ankle to his knee. She had skipped the bit in the middle. That was where his leg had been flopping all over the place!

"You know about the mid shaft fractures you have because that is where your leg is least stable. It is quite nasty and you are lucky that it did not become open. We also expect that is where the nerve pain is being generated from because of the degree of instability and movement there has been in the fracture when you had to get out of the ladder and when you moved. It is clearly a spiral fracture and because of the nature of it the fibula fracture is oblique and long cutting a diagonal fracture line along the bone where it has split, but it is only a single break so it should come together easily and be quite stable once your tibia is fixed. The tibia fracture is a bit worse. Again it is spiral but it has butterflied and fragmented. You have two free sections of bone in the fracture and they are not aligned. We will be able to align them and stabilise them in surgery. There are some minor fragments that we will clean out and remove, but there is no real splintering or chipping of the bone that would make it hard. I expect James has counted that single comminuted fracture as three separate breaks when in real terms it is only one more complicated one," Martha told the Doctor.

"I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that it is a superficial injury and I have no concerns at all. It is complex and there are also going to be soft tissue concerns with ligament and tendon damage that will need repair, especially in your knee, but, you are going to heal," Martha assured him.

"We are going to do all we can and it is going to be okay eventually, but it is going to take time and it is going to take more than one surgery and it is going to involve a lot of complete rest and a long time with no weight bearing and then a long time to build back the range of movement, strength, and to rehabilitate your leg with exercise and intensive physio. We will do all that with you, Doctor. It is not impossible and you need to trust James and I. We will do our very best for you."

"I trust you," the Doctor whispered, but more than his confidence in Martha he was clearly giving an unhidden message that he didn't trust James.

Jack looked over toward the middle aged medic who he expected was a leading orthopaedic doctor. He didn't seem at all fazed by the Doctor's attitude toward him, but he was watching the way Martha was holding the Doctor's hand and caressing his clammy forehead to comfort him. Jack sighed slightly as James seemed to disapprove of her closeness to her patient.

Things had the potential to get messy, but they had to make sure the Doctor got his needs met as a priority, and, Jack wasn't sure that he fully appreciated James's attitude either. He'd poked the Doctor in his breaks with no warning, hard enough to move the bone fragments within the break, and then he'd just blurted out the injuries without checking if the Doctor knew yet or not. It didn't seem he was much good with patients even if he was with injuries. Thank goodness they had Martha.

It took the Doctor several minutes to calm down. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but the nausea was back and his head was aching. Gerald had brought him a cup of tea, but he sipped it a couple of times but he'd been sucking a mint and it made it taste wrong.

"How is the pain in your leg feeling now, Doctor?" Martha asked him when he closed his eyes and sighed. She couldn't tell if he'd done it because of unending discomfort and despair or because of a sense of relief if the pain had reduced some.

"I think it's settled a little," he accepted quietly. "It's still so bad though, Martha," the Doctor complained. "It aches like the worst toothache all the time, over and over again through my leg, but it's not like it is when that pain hits. Then I simply can't stand it."

"Okay," Martha nodded. "And, how are you feeling? Are you still feeling sick?"

"A bit, yes, but not like I'm going to be sick again. My head is aching a little," the Doctor admitted quietly. He wanted to rub his face and try to scrub the ache and fatigue away with his hands, but it would hurt if he did that. The Doctor could feel the throbbing of bruising and swelling in the side of his face and any hope of viewing the world through both eyes was gone. His left was completely shut.

"Let me do your neurological obs again. We can't forget that you gave your head a great whack too, and, while I do suspect the nausea and headache are related to the physical strain and emotional impact of your leg injury, we need to be sure. So, let's just check you out." Martha didn't want to assume that it was because of his leg and then find out he was showing the symptoms of a slow developing brain injury.

The initial scans she'd done of his head showed no indication of injury, but sometimes that was why it was so dangerous. The Doctor didn't complain while she did the tests. He wanted to make sure there wasn't an underlying reason why he was feeling so rotten, but it all came back clear. Martha gave him a drug in tablet form to stop him feeling as sick and he swallowed it with mint tainted tea.

The novice cowboy mounted up a little while later. He trotted a partially broken mare round the paddock. She bucked a couple of times and she reared up once, but the cowboy easily rode it out. The mare was less difficult than any of the other animals that had been ridden to date, but she went on for a good five minutes. The cowboy was definitely riding her even if there was only the odd definite kick out and buck. It was not nearly the same kind of energetic ride, but they had hoped the cowboys had given up for the season and they had not. There was no way of knowing if the partially tamed mare was just an interlude and the championships were going to begin again. There could be a full-blooded stallion waiting in the wings for him.

The Doctor didn't feel like he could take any more. Jack and Martha were both disappointed for him. James had already left the room with instruction to call him back if they needed, but Martha knew they had done all they could. The next stage would be to risk operating and they didn't want to do that. While the Doctor was just quietened by the pain it would have to be left as an endurance. If he ended up screaming with it again they'd have to consider it a surgical emergency. It wasn't something they wanted to do.

When the Doctor calmed they put another movie on and settled down. Jack sat with his boots off and his feet just up on the edge of the Doctor's bed, with the Time Lord's permission. Martha had set up a work area and she sat there and did some paperwork. Gerald sat with her and she showed him how to check all the drug charts for the patients, taking him through the way she did it.

The Doctor half watched the film and half listened to Martha instruct the young medic. She was patient and insightful and she got Gerald to look things up in the reference logs to check for drug interactions when her own experience would lead her to know the answers without looking it up. He was again hit by how little he actually knew of Martha. She was an excellent mentor and tutor. She imparted her knowledge as if she were a middle aged professor with a life time to draw on, not a young woman with more of her career ahead of her than behind. It struck her that she was the medical director on the biggest UNIT base in the United Kingdom and she was young to hold that kind of responsibility and seem relaxed and at ease with it.

"Are you okay?" Martha checked with the Time Lord as she felt him watching her rather than the film. She knew that it was a silly question to ask him, but his degree of being not okay was variable. "Is the pain coming back?"

"How old are you, Martha?"

"That's a rather personal question," Jack commented and laughed. Martha looked at him and he seemed to realise that he maybe he should not have asked it and he blushed slightly, though Jack was only teasing him and Martha had no qualms about revealing her age, but after travelling with the Doctor age was an unusual concept.

"It depends, doesn't it?" Martha commented cryptically. "It's 2009 and according to my passport I had my 24th birthday a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, happy birthday." The Doctor thought that perhaps he should find out when it was so he'd not miss it.

"Thanks."

Jack leant up to the bed and whispered loud enough that Martha could still hear. "She got very drunk."

"I did not!"

"She did," Jack advised the Time Lord. "She was inebriated. Your boss had to be put to bed," Jack told Gerald. The young medic was smiling, but, if he was newly qualified he wasn't that much younger than Martha. He was had to be 22 or 23.

"What do you want to know how old I am for anyway?" Martha asked the Doctor. "If you count the time I was in 1913 and in 1969 and then the year, I'm closer to 26."

"That is still very young."

"Is it?" Martha asked. "For what?"

"To have the amount of responsibility you have here at UNIT," the Doctor commented. "To be so level headed and to be such a good tutor," he added hoping that he wasn't being offensive in any way as he nodded toward Gerald. "As Medical Director here you carry a whole load of responsibility"

"Yes, I do, but I also have a very good team of people who I can rely on."

"Who are older than you?"

"Some of them are," Martha commented.

"Don't you get any resistance from them?"

"A couple of them were a bit off when I was first appointed, but the team is all very new. A lot of good medics were killed. The daleks didn't only target UNIT military operations but the main hospital as well, which is why we've got more stuff here and we're expanding. There is construction work ongoing to build a brand new hospital facility just beyond the warehouses where the TARDIS is. It will take another 18 months or so to complete, but then we will have the best hospital facilities in Europe and will be taking military patients both from UNIT and from the terrestrial forces. It is very exciting to be involved in it all," Martha commented.

"And, the reason why she refused my offer for her to come and work with me," Jack advised the Doctor.

"The sewers or a brand new complex?" Martha pretended to weigh it up but Jack scowled at her and she laughed. "Al ot of people think I'm young, Doctor, but I learned how to deal with that from you."

"You did?"

"Yeah, course, I walk around the place like I own it," Martha commented.

"Works for me," the Doctor agreed.

"It's not always easy, and sometimes it is stressful, but if I'm ever unsure I've got people I trust to offer good advice without judgement. Mum, Jack, Colonel Mace, and my team," Martha explained.

"You have done really well for yourself," the Doctor acknowledged. Jack smiled as he saw Martha blush slightly. Even if she didn't say it out loud and even if the Doctor wasn't gushing about how brilliant she was, the Captain knew that acknowledgement and Time Lord seal of approval would mean a lot to the medic.

"It's not always easy, but it is generally worth it and there is a good team here. A lot of people, like Gerald, are also young and learning. UNIT is rebuilding. Over 60% of UNIT personnel were killed by the daleks, another 10% were injured to the point of needing to retire from active duty. Colonel Mace have kept some of them who are able and willing on board as consultants with the rebuild. They are a great source of knowledge and ideas, and Colonel Mace has put some dynamic teams together so we 'grow and develop' as teams from the start. I think that is probably the best way to do it. He got some criticism to begin with, especially from some of the older soldiers that survived and believed they should command units simply based on the years they had served rather than their ability and experience. Colonel Mace has mixed both."

"Diverse teams tend to find their way through," the Doctor offered.

"It seems to be working well, luckily we have not been tested outside of drill and training. Our young groups of people like Gerald and like Private Coates are training at the same time as doing their duties. It has been driven by the high number of casualties received during the dalek incursion, but there is a sense of pride beginning to come through with the rebuilding of it. It is something good and positive to be a part of and just because a team is young does not mean it is less effective."

"Of course not, but life experiences must have some place too."

"I think anyone who has survived the last few years on Earth have had life experiences aplenty," Martha commented and the Doctor nodded. "We are doing the best that we can here, and, I think we're doing pretty well."

"When you're feeling better you could have a look at what is being accomplished and see if you could offer some of your experiences and insight into helping to improve our non-lethal defences?" Jack suggested. "Or you could look at the R and D stuff in the labs."

"I don't know."

"You're going to be grounded for a few months," Martha reminded the Doctor. "I am sure your current science team would like the opportunity to spend some time talking to you, and, that you will need to keep yourself busy, but it will dependent upon you having your surgery, and, it will be dependent upon Colonel Mace seeing value in it and granting you the clearance to do so," Martha reminded the Doctor that he was on their patch and not the other way round.

"It might be good for you to live to some rules for a while," Jack teased the Time Lord, but the Doctor couldn't think of anything much worse, and he wasn't really able to offer much thought on anything. His leg was hurting and his head was aching and fatigue made him feel like he was trembling inside even if he wasn't on the outside. His guts still felt off and even through mint and tea he could taste his sickness from earlier.

He was scared of the injury in his leg even if he'd now at least been talked through it. Even if it could all be fixed it was going to hurt and it was going to atrophy and Martha had mentioned nothing of the extensive soft tissue damage that had to accompany the bony injuries yet. Cartilage, ligaments, muscle and tendons would all have been affected. He could feel the swelling pressuring his leg from within, constricting blood vessels so that his double heart beat throbbed and echoed with a deep bone ache and the threat of pain that led him to keep desperately still rather than invite the cowboys to mount back up. They'd had a horse out in the paddock but he didn't know when they would next be up and running rodeos again and when they did if it would be an old cantankerous mare or a hot-blooded stallion.

He felt emotionally drained and tired. He'd never felt so scared and so trapped and helpless as that horrible moment when he realised that he was trapped and hanging from his smashed leg within the ladder. It was only the TARDIS helping him that enabled him to remain conscious and get his leg out. It had hurt so much. It still hurt. It hurt all the time. Even with the drugs that were strong enough to fog his clarity and make him feel dim witted.

The pain did not stop. It was grinding down in the depths of his leg and wearing him down second by second. It was not going to stop. It was going to be weeks and weeks of it and the bones would knit and it would not be over because he'd have to rehabilitate and start moving joints that were frozen and withered muscles and it would be hard and painful and he'd have to be both determined and restrained. He rubbed the right side of his face, not realising that he'd let out an exhausted moan until Jack took his hand.


	14. Chapter 14

"Is the horrible pain coming back?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," the Doctor admitted on a whine. "I hope not."

"It won't be long until dinner arrives," Martha commented. "Then, after that I'll give you the zolpidem and we'll see how much sleep you can get."

"Okay."

"I know I must be sounding like a broken record but you really need to just try to rest and stay relaxed," Martha explained. She got up from her work area and checked the drain coming out of his knee without touching him. There was a lot of fluid still building up suggesting that the swelling had not yet finished coming out within his leg. She checked under the ice packs and looked at the level of swelling along his leg to make sure that the edges of the cast weren't digging in anywhere. It looked to be good still, but the swelling was very evident, still it was being accommodated by the foam in the cast so it wasn't critical yet.

"What do you have available from the TARDIS to work as an anti-inflammatory?" Martha asked the Doctor sure that he must have something.

"Nothing I can use."

"Okay," Martha sighed. "And, you can't take ibuprofen or diclofenac can you?"

"No, I'm allergic to both."

"There must be a Time Lord equivalent?" Jack commented. "It's a standard drug isn't it? How come you don't carry anything on the TARDIS?"

"I had plenty but I've used them over the years and I can't stock up," the Doctor commented. "I just have to make do with generic drugs or what I've got left."

"Is there nothing generic you can take?"

"I have an anti-inflammatory drug but it can't be used at the moment."

"Does it interact with Bladamine or the dijalipam?" Martha wondered why something couldn't be used. Maybe when he had been given the sedation to help him sleep they might be able to change one of the drugs over for a few hours and at least give him a chance of getting the swelling down.

"No."

"Then why can't you take it?"

"The only one I have in stock is given by direct application," the Doctor advised.

"What does that mean?"

"It is held in a slow release pod that is injected into the swollen tissues where the medication is released over a period of time. They are injected using a high pressure interface and you can't do that. I can't take ketamine again, and I don't have the local preceding medications that go with it left. I used them and… it would hurt too much."

"But, is it effective?"

"You can't use it."

"How long does the slow release drug pod last?" Martha asked him.

"31 hours."

"31? That is an odd time frame?"

"There are 31 Earth hours in a Gallifreyan day," the Doctor commented.

"So, what are the preceding medications? How would it normally be administered?"

"An effective analgesic ointment is applied to the area where it is going to be implanted. Then a subcutaneous local anaesthetic is delivered into the tissues where it is going to be implanted. Then once they have taken effect the pod is injected directly into the skin utilising a high pressure system. The pod is slightly pointed and only a few millimetres long so it goes through the skin and into the tissues. It is possible that my skin is already too stretched with swelling that if it was delivered then the skin would split," the Doctor worried. "And, I don't have the ointment or local that works in conjunction with it, so it can't be used."

"I'd not worry about your skin splitting, we can select areas here the swelling is not so extreme," Martha advised. "Maybe we should look at it? If it is going to take the swelling down more quickly then we will be able to get you into surgery more rapidly and that will relieve a lot of the pain you're experiencing," Martha suggested.

"Martha, I've seen the high pressure delivery systems he's talking about. They need to be activated by pressing them down against the skin. It hurts enough when you've not got an injury," Jack commented. "I don't think you'd be able to use it." He sided with the Doctor not wanting to think about how much it would hurt if it was pressed deep against his knee or his shin or his ankle to deliver the capsule of drugs.

"Is it in the same place in the TARDIS for Jack to pick up?" Martha asked the Doctor. "We can look at it. I might be able to access the medication and we could come up with another way to do it? Maybe we could put it into the drip."

"It's not a water soluble medication. It is oil based," the Doctor commented. "It has been specifically developed for the direct delivery. I had other stuff that was just oral, but I've used all of that."

"Could our chemists recreate it?" Martha asked the Doctor.

"I don't know."

"I will go over to the TARDIS and get it." Jack thought if they could look it at the same time as discussing it that Martha would see how it would not be suitable to use on the Doctor.

"Dinner will be here shortly," Martha commented. "Go over and pick it up afterward." Martha had seen some basic needle-less systems so she had an idea what the concerns were. If she had to press it down onto the Doctor's leg with any kind of force to deliver the drugs then it would be agony, but, if she could give it to him without causing him further injury then she thought the benefit might be better than the pain it caused delivering it. The benefit of him having surgery sooner would be far greater than causing pain providing him the medication if there was no other way around it.

When the meals arrived Gerald went and fetched what had been ordered for the East Wing. There were two fish and chips and two chicken and chips along with bread and butter, peas, and sweetcorn fritters as sides. The Doctor wasn't hungry and he still felt a bit sick, but he knew he had to eat something, not only so he could take the night medication, but also because his body was fatigued and needed resource. He was feeling generally achy so he needed to provide nutrition. He knew it wasn't the most nutritious of meals but he had chips, mushy peas, and tomato ketchup. Jack accused him of having enough sauce on his chips for it to qualify as one of his five a day.

Once they had eaten Gerald made teas and Martha got someone to take Jack over to get the drugs from the TARDIS. The Doctor thought it was a waste of time. The drug was not water soluble so it could not be put in the drop and it could not be injected locally, especially not into his smashed leg, without anaesthesia that he could not be given.

When Martha examined the delivery system from Jack she checked the amount of pressure she had to apply to prime the injection system to trigger. It felt like it was going to bruise her even if she wasn't injured, but, if she selected the right point they she would be able to deliver it without causing further injury or upsetting the temporary reduction of his cast leg. If she could get a dose into his knee and one into his ankle then it would be effective along his whole lower leg and foot and give them a chance.

"You're right that it is going to be too painful for you to endure," Martha told the Doctor. She did not mention her intention to give him it anyway, she just put it to the side. "It would be quite a good system if you had the anaesthesia, but I'm surprised that there isn't a more painless method of giving it considering it is designed to be given at the site of injuries. It is a shame we can't give you ketamine with the dijalipam or that would have been ideal."

"There are lots of better systems but I've run out of all of them," the Doctor commented.

While they were finishing their drinks and debating on whether they should send Gerald for ice cream the cowboys came back. Not with a full blooded stallion, but it was a more energetic ride than the last mare. It left the Doctor reeling and feeling deflated, so when it passed Martha gave him three 10mg zolpidem tablets to help him get to sleep. It was getting on for half seven and he was exhausted so she thought it the best option.

"How quickly will they work?" Jack asked Martha, but she looked to the Doctor who was wondering if he would have a chance to fit in a last cup of hot tea.

"About 20 minutes," the Doctor offered. Gerald went to make him a cup of tea, happy to stay on to make sure he was settled, even though his shift had technically finished two hours earlier. At least he'd got his dinner provided. He was staying in the college accommodation rather than the general barracks and it was nicer, but it didn't have a canteen, it was self-catering so he often stayed a bit late with Martha and got his tea there. She didn't mind.

By the time the Doctor was half way through his tea he was starting to drift off. Jack ended up having to rescue the cup before he poured the dregs from the bottom down his front. He was definitely getting sleepy. "Let's lie you down a bit more now," Martha eased the back of the bed down with the bed control. It was slow and gentle enough that the mechanism didn't hurt his leg and he relaxed back. "How is that? Are you comfortable?"

"S'okay…" the Doctor slurred as the drugs were quickly taking him off to sleep.

"Good, you're going to be asleep any minute, so how about you give Jack a goodnight hug?" Martha prompted and glanced to Jack as she discretely picked up the high pressure injection system for the medication. Jack hadn't realised she was going to do it. He wrapped his arms around the Doctor and held him as the dozy Time Lord was falling asleep.

"He's probably going to faint," Martha suggested quietly to Jack. "Then the drugs will keep him under so he will rest. It should work out quite well." She hoped that it would. She got Gerald to come over and to hold the cast as she put the pressure injector to the side of his knee, low down and close to the edge of the cast. It was on the opposite side to the drip. Gerald held the cast still as Martha applied the pressure needed to depress the end of the injection system and activate it.

"It's okay." Jack felt sick as the Doctor screamed in his arms, but he quickly went totally limp as Martha injected the drug and a small fatty globule of medication was fired into his knee. Jack carried on holding the Doctor even though he'd fainted as Martha expected, but the Doctor was so far under that he didn't even flinch when she injected another dose into the front of his smashed ankle.

"That is it done," Martha commented.

"He's out of it." Jack let go of the Doctor making sure that he was in the middle of the bed when he let go of him. He was sound asleep. Martha put the oxygen mask on for him for a while as he slept and she changed the drip over and swapped the ice packs so they were fresh and cold.

"Hopefully he will sleep peacefully for a few hours at least," Martha suggested. "He's knackered more than anything and that affects the way he interprets the pain he is in."

"I think he might be cross with you for giving him those injections," Jack warned Martha as he caressed the Doctor's hair from his clammy face. Even as he was sound asleep with the bruising and swelling on his face he didn't look particularly peaceful. Away from the dark blues and purples his skin was porcelain white making him look ghostly and sick. "He is going to be okay, isn't he?" Jack asked Martha quietly. "I mean seriously? None of the hopefully, probably, should be, ifs? Is he going to be alright? His leg is smashed up isn't it?"

"I've not lied to anyone when I've said I'm optimistic that he will make a good recovery, but I can't promise it. There is room for there to be complications. We will know more once we are able to operate and we can measure how well he comes back together and how he starts to heal. He's got a lot of soft tissue damage that can be considered just as serious as the fractures and also needs surgical intervention. It's not straight forward, but it's not the end of the world either. I don't think it is a life changing injury, but, if things don't go well then it could be."

"That isn't what I wanted to hear," Jack sighed.

"You know as well as I do that I can't give any guarantees Jack." Martha sighed. "Hopefully we have got him to the point where the neurological pain is tolerable even if it is not ideal. At the moment he is too tired and too sore and too worried to be too bothered about things, but when he is more recovered we really need to make sure he doesn't get too bored because then he is going to start to get non-compliant and he could do himself further damage. He will really need to behave, but I am also worried he may end up getting depressed. You know how dark he can get when things don't go his way," Martha confided and the Captain nodded.

"I think there is something he's not told us about what he has been up to as well. The last thing I know he was involved in was the bus that got zapped through a wormhole. I've read the debriefs and I'm not sure there is anything in them that could have been especially upsetting to him. From the sounds of it he probably had fun more than anything, but he didn't stay to submit his own report. Apparently he went into the TARDIS to 'arrest himself'," Martha commented and rolled his eyes.

"We can ask him tomorrow," Jack suggested.

"We will do what we can to make sure he is alright. We're all going to have a part to play, as medics, as his friends, and him as a patient. I hope it will all come together in the end, but getting there is going to be difficult, and I need to figure out how to balance looking after him and the rest of my responsibilities or I'll be getting into trouble too."

Jack and Martha chatted quietly for a while, then Jack put another film on and Martha got on with some more work. Gerald had gone back over to the college accommodation for the night but let Martha know if she needed him to come back to help with anything that he would. It was only ten minutes' walk from the campus so he'd be there early in the morning to help with breakfast. Jack joked that he should bring croissants in with him and he said that he would. Gerald wasn't sure where he fit in with regards the informality surrounding the Doctor and his friends and Doctor Jones. He didn't want to alienate himself and seem offish by being too formal, but he didn't want to get into trouble for being too relaxed either.

He thought he would speak to Doctor Jones because he wanted to spend some time with her helping the Doctor to recover, he was an actual alien patient and not an autopsy candidate. A real live alien and the legendary Doctor at that! A lot of doctors thought that making drinks and doing drug charts and things that might be sorted by nurses in another arena was beneath them, but Gerald agreed with Doctor Jones's philosophy in that it made them better well-rounded medics if they were not afraid to make a cup of tea or get a bed pan out for their patients.

Just after Midnight Martha checked the Doctor. He as still comfortable. She changed the drip bag over without disturbing him. He'd slept for four hours which in normal circumstances was probably getting on to a week of sleep. When Martha had helped him with his injured wrist he'd suggested he'd sleep a bit more than usual while he healed. Because it was not a fatal injury – even if it hurt – he would not be able to get into a healing coma and because it was not rapidly fatal he was not going to regenerate, but he would sleep more. She expected the same would apply now he had injured his leg and that he would need to sleep for several hours each night until he was recovered; something that would do him no harm at all.

As the Doctor remained asleep and appeared to be as comfortable as could be expected Martha elected to go into the adjacent room and get a few hours sleep on the bed in there. She made Jack promise that if the Doctor woke up and was in pain or distress that he would come and wake her up. Jack was content to be left on his own to keep an eye on the Time Lord, there was a full video library and plenty of food. He was quite used to wiling away the hours while his friends, colleagues, and sometime lovers slept.

He put another film on and settled in the armchair by the Doctor's bed to watch it with a family sized bag of crisps and a jug of juice. It was hard to concentrate on the film though, now he was on his own his mind kept on replaying what he had seen of the Doctor in the TARDIS. It was the look of absolute terror and excruciating pain on his friend's face that hit Jack the hardest. How vulnerable he actually was when he was off in the TARDIS. Jack even began to doubt that he should have declined the offer of travelling with him again. The Torchwood team had grown beyond behind his team and his responsibility. They were a team in their own right responsible for their own actions and his presence had done nothing to protect them. It had only hurt them and got them killed because of his obsession with his lost brother.

Jack had no idea how he had got from concern about the Doctor breaking his leg to mulling over Gray, Owen, and Tosh. That was not a good way to start a night alone. He tried to concentrate on the film, pausing and putting it back a couple of chapters to the last bit of he remembered watching. He had seen the film a hundred times, it was Shawshank Redemption and a great film. It was one of Ianto's favourites and he had got him to watch it the first time. It would surely be remembered as a classic one day, but Ianto had tried to use it to teach Jack about patience and planning. It was something he lacked and no film was going to change that, as crazy as it was when he had an eternity to wait, waiting was not his strong point. When he wanted something, he wanted it now.

The Doctor moaned.

It brought Jack out of his mix of movie watching, self-analysis, and self-persecution. The Captain wasn't sure if he was waking up, in pain, or dreaming. He got up from the armchair to stand over him for a moment, studying the Time Lord's expression. His calm loss of tension in sleep had gone and his brow furrowed briefly. His arm moved from lying loosely at his side to being over his abdomen. It looked like he tried to swat at something. Jack thought he was probably starting to dream as the drugs took him out of the deepest slumber.

"Four times…" the Doctor mumbled as his brow furrowed again.

"Shhh, Doc, you're dreaming. Just go back to sleep properly," Jack caressed his head. He knew enough about the Doctor to know his dreams were not going to be kind, especially when he'd been given a drug with a potential side effect of 'vivid dreams'. "Sleep. "Jack soothed him and the Doctor seemed to settle back down again. His facial muscles twitched a couple of times, twisting his expression into one of consternation and once what looked like the pain of his leg infiltrating his slumber, but Jack stroked his head slowly and the Time Lord actually sighed as he headed back into a more peaceful rest again, making the Captain smile.

Jack sat back down on the armchair to watch the rest of the film. When it had finished he went back into the small kitchen within the East Wing. It had been stocked up well for them. He made himself another coffee, he often drank it black but when on Doctor watch overnight he decided to have the comfort of sugared coffee with creamer so it was like a soft liquid candy. In the top of the cupboard was a jar of white sugar with four vanilla pods in it. That would be even better, vanilla sugar in coffee was great.

Jack fetched the jar of vanilla sugar down, but while it had not spoiled it must have got slightly damp at some point because it was all stuck together in a single lump. He banged the jar on the bench. Rapping it down lightly so he could try to loosen it enough to get the spoon in. He did it once and then he did it again, when that didn't work he dared to do it a bit harder. The lump of sugar broke up so he could fetch some shards out to stir into his coffee, but he didn't celebrate his success. He abandoned his coffee making exploits and skidded on the smooth tiled floor back into the Doctor's room. The Time Lord was screaming.

"Doctor?! What is it?" Jack rushed back into the Doctor's room. He couldn't immediately see if he was awake or caught in some kind of night terror, but he was screaming and thrashing out on the bed with enough energy that his leg cast was swinging despite the elevated sling being stabilised with additional wires to prevent accidental movement.

The Doctor shrieked, but he didn't sound like he was in pain. He sounded like he was petrified of something. Jack tried to grab hold f him to steady and calm him down, but he Time Lord managed to land a glancing blow on the side of Jack's cheek. It wasn't hard enough to damage him and it was instinctive and not deliberate. The Doctor's eyes were open, but it was clear from his glassy stare that he was not with them but had been transported somewhere horrific in his mind.

The Doctor flailed enough that the drop was wrenched out of his arm leaving a long streak of blood where the pierced vein objected to having the canola ripped back out of it.

"Martha?" Jack called through to her, but she had already been woken by the screaming and was almost at the door before Jack shouted. The Captain grabbed the oxygen mask and went to put it over the Doctor's nose and mouth to try and help him, but the Time Lord screamed even louder and tried to get away from him actually twisting on the bed.

"What happened?" Martha checked as she tried to observe what was going on.

"I was just making myself a coffee and he went berserk!" Jack wasn't entirely sure what had happened himself. "He was asleep when I left and I was only gone a couple of minutes." Jack fretted. He shouldn't have left him to make the coffee. He tried to hold the Doctor's head still long enough to get the mask on.

"Don't try to force the mask on, it will make him panic even more," Martha advised. "It makes him feel claustrophobic for some reason."

"Sorry," the Captain mumbled and dropped the mask. He had been trying to help not to make things worse. The Doctor turned more on the bed and then screeched at a new level with the mix of fear and pan. His panic making him oblivious but the pain his movement caused in his leg making his panic worse in a cycle that he was unlikely to be able to break himself unless he simply passed out and with the cast on his leg split there was a danger he'd upset the reduction of his injuries.

"Jack, hold the cast on his leg as still as you can to stop it moving," Martha instructed as she went to gather the Doctor into a semi-restraining embrace.

"Be careful, he lashed out when I got too close," Jack warned Martha. Martha could see there was blood starting to discolour the bandage that had been supposed to hold the canola in place. It had spurted beyond the fabric initially but then the bandage had closed over the top and now a red blotch was forming. The Time Lord was snatching for breath between cries. His eyes were open, but unfocused and Martha knew he was not consciously aware of his surroundings.

"Doctor? It's Martha. You're dreaming," she told him firmly as she stood out of the ay of his arms. "Are you listening to me? You're just dreaming. You're safe, but, if you carry on like this you're going to hurt your leg," she warned. "Are you listening to me?" she asked him, but got no response.

"I don't think he can hear us."

"I think he can," Martha argued. "I think he's ignoring us in favour of whatever he is dreaming about," Martha suggested. "Now, I'm not very happy about that at all, Doctor." She gripped his shoulder, pushing her thumb and her fingers into his bony joint enough to cause him some pain to try and draw his attention. "Don't you ignore me, Doctor, focus on me," Martha instructed. "I am real, that is just a dream. It is just a dream, Doctor, and you're safe," Martha spoke calmly and clearly. "Now, calm yourself down, you're dreaming and it is not real. You're safe and you need to lie still, so calm yourself down," Martha repeated the words like a mantra.

As the Doctor began to calm slightly Martha moved closer to the bed and released her grip on his shoulder. Instead she took his hand and caressed his head, leaning over him and holding him in a hug so that he could not accidentally strike her but so she could comfort him. "Calm down, Doctor, it's Martha. You're just dreaming and you're safe. You're safe and you're okay," she assured him quietly. "Come on now, Doctor, are you listening to me? You're safe."

"Martha?" the Doctor bleated quietly. His breath was ragged and his leg was screaming with an agony that had reached a new level and he didn't think he was going to survive it.

"Hello," Martha leant away from him and stroked his clammy head. "You're okay. You were having a bad dream," Martha assured him when he looked a little confused as well as pained. The confusion didn't last long in the face of the pain as his awareness became clearer. He groaned and then he cried out, but it was clear in the tone that the cause was no longer his fears but solely his leg.

"We need to get you straightened out a bit on the bed, so you can relax again," Martha commented. "You moved around a bit while you were dreaming. Take deep breaths through your nose," she told him. She used her hug to straighten him back into the middle of the bed from where he had twisted over slightly. She then had to lift his leg cast so that it was resting back in the middle of the sling and that his toes were pointing up toward the ceiling so the pressure through the cast was correct. The Doctor cried out when she moved his leg even though she only touched the cast and Jack swapped places going to hold him.

"I'm sorry," Martha went and caressed his head once she was happy with the position of his leg in the sling. She then used the bed control to sit him up a bit more so that he didn't look as awkward. "That should help you relax a bit easier." She put the oxygen mask in his hand. His breathing was shaky and he looked anxious and in pain. "Breathe the oxygen and calm down. Let me sort your drip out for you again. You managed to pull it out and bleed on my floor," Martha commented when she saw that there were red droplets in a line across the tiles.

"Sorry."

"Daft git, you don't need to apologise," she assured him. "Let me have your arm a moment." She took his arm into her lap as she pulled the treatment stool over from where she had been working with Gerald earlier. She carefully unravelled the bandage ad cleaned the stop where the canola had been pulled out. She applied a pressure on it as it was still bleeding a little. There was a large collection of blood in the tissues surrounding the vein under the skin so there was going to be a large area of dark bruising form.

"Anyone is going to look at your arm and think I butchered you putting the line in," Martha complained in good humour. "I think we're going to have to give that poor vein a rest and go for the other arm this time." Martha suggested. The Doctor tried to twist slightly so that he could present the other arm to her, but he gasped as the pain shot through his leg.

"Oh no…" he whimpered.

"What? I'll come round the other side," Martha told him. "Don't twist round."

"S'back," the Doctor groaned and then grimaced.

"The nerve pain?" Martha hoped that wasn't the case.

"Rodeo…" the Doctor moaned. The crowd were all filling the stands and were roaring in anticipation as the champion cowboy was mounted onto a large black bull. It was held in the stall behind the gates but it was already bucking and snorting great clouds of condensed rage. Its nostrils were flared and its ears were flat back as it kicked out. If they didn't let it out of the stall it was going to hurt itself or someone else so they and to drop the gate before the countdown was completed. The crowd all roared as the bull leapt into the arena over the falling gate. Spectators were on their feet waving Stetsons in the air as the bull charged, bucking and rearing across the sawdust filled arena. The cowboy clung on, digging his heels in and raising one hand in the air as he gripped the rope wrapped around the bull's thick muscular body.

It bucked and kicked out, then it dropped its head right down and kicked out repeatedly with both back legs. It didn't regain its fee properly and it skidded down in the dirt on its front knees causing the crowd to collectively gasp as it rolled before getting back up to its feet and charging at a rodeo clown in the ring that dodged out the way of the bucking rearing animal. The cowboy had been unseated but had a foot caught in the roping as it was dragged by the kicking bull. Rodeo clowns all rushed in to corner and snare the raging bull, they roped it, dragging it back down to the ground so the cowboy could be freed. The cowboy got to his feet and waved his Stetson in the air to the VIP stand before he was helped out of the arena again as the bull raged in his wake.

"What is he going on about rodeos?" Jack asked Martha when the Doctor passed out.

"I'm not sure," Martha admitted. She took all the gel packs off the length of his leg to see if she could determine why the nerve pain had been so fierce that it had caused him to pass out again when it had been better for him for a short while. "Bloody Hell, Doctor?" She sighed when she looked at his leg. At the front of his shin there was a visible bulge where he'd managed to twist slightly within the cast and muscle contractions had pulled his leg out of line slightly. "I'm going to correct this straight away while he is fainted," Martha warned Jack. "Then I will need to take some more scans to check the position. I know it is painful when it is against the nerves, but if it were to complicate matters with any of the major blood vessels in his leg then it would be worse."

"Okay," Jack nodded.

"Hold him for me?" Martha instructed. Jack embraced the unconscious Time Lord. He did not watch as Martha pressed down on the bulge to locate the end of his shin bone back down into the middle of his leg rather than where it had angled itself upward again. The Doctor gagged and arched against him. Martha got a bit of adhesive plaster tape and she stuck it down over the front of his shin. It would apply a slight pressure to keep it all down or at least to return it into position if any muscle contraction brought it out again. She was surprised there were enough tendons still attached to be able to do it, but there obviously were some somewhere within his leg. The Doctor moaned as she crossed another piece of tape over the top.

"Its okay, Doc, it's just Martha sorting you out," Jack assured him. "Just relax. It won't take long."

"I'm done," Martha commented a moment later. "I'm just going to get that drip back in for you." Martha advised the Doctor. She wheeled the drip stand over to the other side of the bed and positioned it at the head between the bed and the arm chair so it was out of the way. "You'll feel a sharp scratch in your arm," Martha warned as she located a vein in the Doctor's right arm. As she slid the needle in the Doctor flinched, hissing and pulling away indicating just how hyper sensitive the continued pain had made him as he'd taken many needles without any kind of fuss previously. She aped the canola down and bandaged his arm and then connected the drugs back up for him. "There you go, you're all done," she assured him as he groaned softly. "Go back to sleep now."

"Can't…" the Doctor complained miserably.

"How about I go and make tea then?" Jack asked. "I was making coffee when you started to have your nightmare," the Captain advised him. "Do you want a cup of tea before you try to go back to sleep again?"

"Please."

"Martha are you going to go back to bed?" Jack asked. She checked the time. It was half four in the morning, but the Doctor was so pale and he was visibly trembling. He'd experienced an episode of nerve pain which had made him pass out and she'd had to reduce and tape his mid shaft fractures. She didn't think it would be fair for her to go back to bed until he had calmed down a bit more, by which time she would be thinking about getting up anyway.

"No, I'll have a coffee please," she commented and then yawned.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor whispered.

"Why?"

"I'm keeping you up."

"That's no problem," Martha assured him. Jack went out to make the drinks and Martha sat with the Doctor. "So, do you want to tell me what you were dreaming about?" Martha asked him. "And, don't tell me that you can't remember, because I can see in your eyes that you do."

In the kitchen area Jack banged the vanilla sugar to try and loosen it up again. In the Doctor's room they heard the knocking and Martha saw the Doctor jolt and flinch from the sound with enough force that he moved his leg and grimaced.

"I think you need to talk to us about more than your leg about you?" Martha commented as she took his hand. "Don't you? Doctor?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to wait until Jack is back with the tea, or, do you want me to get him to stay out there a while longer so you can just talk to me?" Martha checked.

"I'll wait for my tea," the Doctor offered hoping that Jack would be a long time and that the cowboy might have been recovered enough to get back on again. There was a fate worse than a broken leg waiting for him. His hearts sunk as he realised this was all just the beginning.


	15. Chapter 15

Jack came back into the room with the drinks. He'd made some toast as well while he was out in the hopes that the Doctor would eat something and because he guessed Martha was going to give up on sleep. She'd barely had four hours, but she'd survived on less on many an occasion. The Doctor seemed to be more relaxed again, but he had a look of nervous anticipation about him as if Martha had told him something he didn't want to hear. Jack hoped that it was not something else horrid that was going to be done to his leg. He didn't think that he was going to be able to take anything else.

Jack took the arm chair again, but Martha actually moved to sit on the left side of the Doctor's bed. He was so slim and she was so petite that there was plenty of room for her to sit beside him without disturbing him at all. She put her arm around his shoulders.

"So, how about you tell us what else is going on?" Martha prompted once they were all in receipt of their drinks, a slice of toast, and were as comfortable as possible.

"I don't know where to start."

"How about what you've been doing since we last saw you?" Martha offered.

"It started before then," the Doctor advised.

"Okay, so, why don't you start at the beginning?"

"I don't know when that is."

"How about you just tell us and we will try to put it all together?" Jack suggested. "We're quite used to doing that. When you're friends with a Time Lord you're not really expecting things to come at you in chronological order all the time. We will try to keep up."

"Like isn't linear," the Doctor defended himself.

"Yours certainly isn't," Jack agreed. "Mine certainly didn't used to be, but it does tend to be now, except where you're concerned."

"Same as mine," Martha confirmed. "Monday does tend to follow Sunday."

"I don't like Sundays," the Doctor grumbled. "Or Mondays for that matter. I usually skip them."

"Okay, well, why don't you just tell us? Don't even think about it, just talk?" Martha prompted.

"Donna and I visited the Ood Sphere. The TARDIS picked a random destination and we ended up on the Ood Sphere, the centre of Ood Operations. We were there for the revolution and we helped to free the Ood slaves. When we were about to leave, one of the Ood, a spokesmen for them called Ood Sigma, he invited us to stay within their song – that is how they experience life and communicate with each other, through their collective song," the Doctor explained. "I told them that I kind of had a song of my own and had to leave, but he told me that my song was going to be ending soon."

"Your song? What does that mean?" Martha asked curiously.

"To the Ood the song is their mode of existence," the Doctor explained. "I guess it can be interpreted in a number of ways, but I am fairly certain that he was warning me that I was going to die soon. I thought that because they referred to Donna and I as the 'Doctor Donna' and she was affected by the metacrisis that maybe it was the song of the Doctor Donna that they had seen ending and that when Donna…" the Doctor swallowed a bolus of emotions as he thought of his best friend.

"I went to see Wilfred a couple of weeks ago," Martha told the Doctor. "Donna is doing fine."

"You saw Wilfred?"

"Yes, he still has his paper stand. I think Sarah Jane and Luke have been to buy a paper a couple of times too, and you have, haven't you Jack?" Martha checked.

"Yeah," Jack confirmed. "We've been looking out for Donna through him for you," Jack told the Doctor. "When you're on your feet there is no reason why we can't take a wander down to the paper stand. It's only a twenty minute walk or so along the river to his stand. He always asks how you're doing whenever one of us goes and sees him. Tells us that he won't ever stop looking out for you."

"Do you think he would visit?" the Doctor asked a bit sheepishly.

"I'm sure he would," Martha confirmed. "Do you want me to try to arrange it?" she was a little surprised that he'd be keen to see one of his companion's family members. Especially with what had happened to Donna, but Wilfred had never expressed anything but a warm respect, sense of awe, and love for the Time Lord. She was fairly sure that if she suggested that her mother came and visited that the Doctor would muster the strength to run away even with his shattered leg. "Would you like Wilf to come in?" Martha double checked and he nodded. "Okay."

"I'll speak to him in the morning and see if he can free up some time." Jack offered. He was as surprised as Martha was that the Doctor would want to see Donna's grandfather. He hoped that it was not in some kind of self-persecution over what he had happened to Donna and so he could try to punish himself. It had not been his fault at all, but he knew he must miss the red headed woman that they all felt they'd not had the time to get to know.

"Let's see about the rest of this story then?" Martha prompted. "So, the Ood told you that you were going to die with a cryptic message that your song was ending, but that it might have just been Donna losing her memories?" Martha reminded him of where he was up to in the story.

"I thought it might have been, but it's not." The Doctor sighed.

"How do you know?"

"There was a woman on the bus. She was a lovely lady and her husband, she was going to have chops and gravy for tea. She had a low level psychic ability, was picking up all kinds of things on the planet we went to; was aware of the swarm before we were. It was quite something. When we got home she took me that I had to be very careful. That someone or something was going to knock four times, and then I'd be? She never said the words, but from the look on her face and the way she told me to be careful? I think she saw me regenerate," the Doctor advised. "Something is going to knock for times and then I'm going to die."

"That's just nonsense," Jack shook his head.

"Is it?"

"Yeah, psychic mumbo jumbo designed to freak you out. It's nothing you should be worrying about," Jack commented dismissively.

"I don't think it is." The Doctor sighed. "There have been so many rips in time recently that psychic feedback has been stronger than ever. Dalek Khan, the woman on the bus, Ood Sigma, the Pyrovilians. It's all coming together and it's all hinting that I'm going to die."

"Regenerate," Martha insisted.

"It's the same thing for me." The Doctor sounded miserable. "I don't want to"

"You're not going to anytime soon," Martha assured him. "We're going to fix your leg up. You're much more likely to meet a grisly end being silly on ladders than with knocking aren't you?" she commented and squeezed him toward her in an embrace. "Maybe she saw you falling off the ladder and messing your leg up? You really are an idiot sometimes, Doctor, you know that don't you?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Surely you've heard prophecies and things before" Jack commented, not really buying into it or understanding why the Doctor would.

"Lots of times."

"Then why have you let this one spook you?"

"Because it is different," the Doctor admitted. "It feels real. I can't tell you why, but, it does."

"I think that a lot of difficult things have happened in recent months and all of that along with a prophecy that can be interpreted in several different ways and may or may not be real are playing on your mind when they don't necessarily have to," Martha told him sensibly. "Did the woman on the bus tell you that it is going to happen soon?"

"No, but Ood Sigma said my song would end soon."

"And what does that even mean? Soon in the TARDIS could be tomorrow or in a century couldn't it?" Martha asked him and he nodded, though he knew Martha was just trying to make him feel better. It wasn't really working.

"All of us are going to die one day," Martha reminded him, but Jack cleared his throat. "Well, apart from you," she offered. "But, if the woman warned you to be careful then perhaps she was telling you that it could be avoided if you were careful and that it is not inevitable. Maybe it is falling off the ladder that she saw. I don't think that things are fated. I'd like to think that we do have a hand in our own futures and that things are not pre-destined," Martha commented and the Doctor offered. "Maybe breaking your leg and being stuck here will change the direction of any prophecy anyway?"

"Maybe."

"I don't know what else to say to make you feel any better about it, but I don't think you can allow it to define how you live from this point."

"I know," the Doctor admitted. "I've tried not to, but the ice vents? They were all knocking and clanging when they wouldn't turn off and then I fell and I thought that was it," he sounded sheepish as he admitted it.

"I thought you said that you dropped down onto your feet and that you thought you were going to be alright, not that you thought you were going to die?" Martha questioned him.

"I lied," the Doctor frowned. "Sorry, I was scared."

"You're not going to die and you're not going to need to regenerate," Martha assured him. "I can't imagine how much it hurt or how scared you were on the TARDIS, but you're safe here. You're in UNIT, and, even if you don't like guns, you're in one of the most highly defended centres on the planet," Martha assured him. "We're going to look after you and we'll keep you safe."

"Thank you," the Doctor commented quietly.

"No need to thank us," Martha advised. "We'll all feel a lot better knowing that you're in one piece," she teased him. "You're not going to be much good at saving the universe for us like this are you?"

"No," the Doctor accepted, but then grimaced. He definitely wasn't going to be able to defend the universe any time soon as the cowboy had obviously recovered from his last disastrous round, or at least the rodeo was back on. There ma have been more than one champion. He hoped quite maliciously that the champion had broken his bloody leg and ten he'd see how he liked it. He'd trample all up and down it for him and forget wearing Converse he'd make sure he had boots and spurs on regarding of how idiotic he'd look. He'd forgo all fashion sense to rage on that cowboy bastard's leg.

The Doctor roared in frustrated anger and pain as the novice rider came out on a steed that was gauged just right to the rider's skill. He was going to give a good ride to the crowd so they got the 'entertainment' they cruelly came for, but he was not going to get thrown. It was no until the horse tired that it just cantered around the outside of the arena, occasionally reminding the rider that he was not tamed with a body jerking buck.

The Doctor breathed again and tears spilled from the corners of his tightly closed eyes. Martha and Jack just held him hoping that it helped him to ride it out. They didn't know what else they could do. He didn't pass out this time and Martha hoped it was improving again as he calmed down from the nightmare and tale of unnerving prophecies. It really was just the case that he had to try to relax as much as possible because the slightest of muscle twitches in his leg could cause the unstable bones to move and trigger the immense pains that troubled him.

They were down to last resort now.

At just after half five Jack asked Martha to get one of the night watch to escort him back out to the Gatehouse so he could get some fresh air, stretch his legs, and go and fetch a morning paper. The Doctor didn't think anything of it, knowing that Jack would scour the papers on a daily basis to ensure there wasn't any reports that Torchwood would have to get involved in or investigate. He checked if there was anything the Doctor wanted from the newspaper stand but the Doctor couldn't think of anything except how tired he was and how much his leg was hurting. He certainly didn't know what chocolate bar he fancied when Jack suggested he'd bring something back. He didn't really want anything.

Jack left the UNIT base and jogged the mile or so to a specific newspaper stand just beyond Leicester Square. It was still locked up but it wouldn't be long before it opened. Jack waited for the stall to get opened up, but when he saw Donna pull up in her car to drop her grandfather off Jack hung back just out of view until she had left again. She wished her grandfather a good day and then left to go off to her own work in the business district.

Jack hurried over before Wilf started to get all the papers together that had been delivered in great tied piles. Jack grabbed one and went to loft it up for him, giving Wilf a shock for a moment, but when he recognised the Captain as a friend and not someone stealing his papers Wilf smiled warmly. "Good morning, son, you're out early. You visiting young Doctor Jones again?" Wilfred asked him.

"Yeah, I am, and, I'm good thank you. How are you Wilf?" Jack checked.

"Oh, mustn't grumble," Wilfred commented. He used a Stanley knife he kept in his pocket to cut through the cords holding the papers together and got a couple ready for the first customers who would be passing through soon on their morning journeys into work. He offered 'top of the morning' to the first two customers who had their change ready and took their papers while barely changing stride. It wasn't until the morning rush was over that Wilf was able to settle and start to chat with customers who were not in so much of a hurry.

"So, what brings you out so early, lad? I'm all for special visitors," Wilf commented as he put his small kettle on o boil and got two cups out to make Jack a coffee. "But, before six? That is commitment."

"What are the chances of you taking some time off this morning?" Jack asked him. "Could you get someone to cover your stall?"

"Not really," Wilfred puzzled as to why Jack was asking him that. "They don't have standby cover for the out-lying stalls like this one."

"So, what would you do if you had to attend to an emergency?"

"Shut up shop," Wilf commented. "There are other sellers down the road, but I don't like to do that. I have my regulars who come here because they know I have what they want," Wilf stated. "Why are you asking me that? Is something wrong? You're worrying me now. There aren't more aliens around are there? Are we safe? Do I need to get hold of Donna?"

"We're safe," Jack assured him. "But, there may be one alien who could do with your help?" Jack prompted. He saw Wilf straighten slightly and his expression widen as he realised who it was that Jack was talking about.

"Oh, um, him?" Wilfred asked at a reduced voice in case anyone was listening as he pointed up to the sky. "The Doctor? Does he need my help? What could I possibly do for him? Is he here on Earth?"

"Yeah, he's on Earth, he's not far away actually, a mile or so. He could do with your help."

"He sent you?" Wilfred asked.

"He asked after you and said he would like to see you but he doesn't realise I have come to find you this morning," Jack commented.

"Why didn't he come himself? Oh, is it because he was worried he might see Donna? She is only giving me a lift this week because I've had a blummin' touch of the ol' flu and she didn't want me getting on the tube train first thing in the morning. He's always looking out for her isn't he?"

"He cares very much about Donna, and, if he could have come himself he would have and he'd have been very careful not to risk Donna's health" Jack commented. "But, he's not come because he's, well, he's laid up, Wilfred," Jack told him. "He's had an accident and he's broken his leg pretty badly, very badly if I'm honest. He's going to have surgery on it in a few days or so and he's in a lot of pain with it and isn't very happy/ He's struggling quite a bit with it, Wilfred. It happened yesterday morning and he's basically been in agony since," Jack offered. "He's not slept well and we were talking overnight. He mentioned some things he did with Donna and was starting to get upset about what happened to her, and, Martha and I mentioned that we see you from time to time to keep track of how Donna is and he asked if we could ask you if you could visit, though he doesn't realise that is where I've come this morning," Jack explained. "He actually asked of you would visit him."

"You sound surprised."

"I am," Jack admitted candidly. "Not for any other reason than it's not normally what the Doctor does," Jack commented. "He normally shies away from the families of the people he travels with. He claims not to do domestic at all, yet he is keen to see you. There must be something very special about you, Wilf," Jack commented.

"Something very special about him, and you say he's broken his blummin' leg?" Wilfred confirmed.

"In several places. He's having a difficult time with it."

"Is Martha looking after him?"

"Yes, she is, but he's got a trapped nerve or something in there and they are having trouble with the amount of pain he is in. The need to wait as long as they can before they operate, but he's hurting a lot and we're worried he is going to get miserable with it. It's going to take him several months to recover so we're all kind of rallying around a bit. I know if is hard for you because of Donna, but I think he's really appreciate it if you could come and see him if you can?"

"If I can?" Wilfred scoffed. He got a brick sized mobile phone and dialled a number He got through to a woman he called Suki and he apologised profusely and told her that he had to attend to a family emergency and he had set up the stall but he had to leave straight away so he was locking back up. He hung up and set about turning the generator back off to shut up shop again. Jack just looked him. "What? Pass me those papers over would you?"

"Family emergency?

"He is family," Wilfred confirmed without hesitation. "If that man needs me then I will be there as long as he does," Wilfred assured Jack. "You can count on me, Sir." He put the board back in place at the front of his stall. He could come back and sort out the papers again later and he'd need to be back for six in the evening when Donna promised to pick him back up on her way home from work. He then put a notice on the board directing his customers to the nearest local vendor and apologising for any inconvenience his absence would cause them. It took him less than five minutes to be ready to go.

"Let's go then," Wilf prompted.

"I walked up."

"From St Thomas's is that where he is?"

"No, he's on the UNIT base. It's about a mile and a half?"

"A mile and a half?" Wilfred checked and then looked at the Captain. He stepped to the side of the road, put his fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly. "Taxi!" He yelled and waved down a black cab. Jack smiled seeing why the Doctor appreciated Donna's grandfather on his own merit. They got into a black cab and directed the driver to the UNIT base.

In the gatehouse they had to go through the process of Wilfred being booked in. He had a woollen hat on his head and Jack wasn't sure he'd ever actually seen him without it, but when he took it off to have his photo taken he couldn't help but snigger slightly. Wilfred had his fingerprints taken and he was issued with a visitors pass. They then waited for someone to come and take them over to the hospital unit and into the East Wing. It was Private Coates who took them over as he had been assigned to act as liaison to the hospital to run base errands while the Doctor was on site. He didn't mind that even if some of the other young privates thought it was a pointless task. Ethan knew it meant he would be able to go and talk to the Time Lord some more and see if he was feeling any better, he had worried about him overnight, even if it wasn't really his place to.

Martha hadn't told the Doctor why it was taking Jack so long to go and get a newspaper. She hoped a visitor would gee him up a bit. He was exhausted and miserable and the cowboys had been having a couple of practise rounds. He was being a bit indecisive and indifferent about things and Martha couldn't get him to decide what he wanted to for breakfast and was not going to accept him not having any breakfast. He wasn't hungry because he hadn't eaten enough, not because he was full, and being miserable and grumpy about everything wasn't going to make him feel any better at all.

The Doctor was slumped against the bed looking at the menu for breakfast that Martha had given him. Nothing was leaping out at him. He didn't want anything to eat, and even if he knew that he should eat there was nothing available that he wanted, and why did he have to have breakfast just because it was morning? If he was in the TARDIS he'd not have had breakfast just because it was morning. He'd have what he wanted, and, if he didn't want anything then he'd not have had anything.

When Jack came back in to the room the first thing the Doctor noticed was that he didn't have a paper which struck him as odd because he had been gone for almost an hour to get a paper. He was followed into the room by Wilfred. It took the Doctor a moment to process that information as all the drugs he was on were dulling his senses slightly. It was Wilfred. Donna's grandfather, and he was walking into the room, he was really there?

The Doctor instinctively went to sit up more straight so he looked more presentable to Donna's grandfather. The change in position made the pain spike in his leg and he hissed and grimaced and spilled some tea down the front of his T-shirt.

"Careful." Martha grabbed the cup off him. "You wally," she accused and shook her head. She gave him the bed control. "You need to use that if you want to sit up some more," she reminded him. Then she went to Wilfred and gave him a hug and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for coming, Wilf." She had not doubted that he'd drop what he could if he could and come to see the Doctor.

"Wilfred?" the Doctor gasped and tried not to wince as he moved the bed to sit up straighter. He glanced at the Captain and Jack winked at him. "You didn't have to come straight away. I hope Jack hasn't inconvenienced you?" He asked once he'd got enough breath back to get a full sentence out.

"Course I did, lad, and it is no inconvenience," Wilfred immediately went to his bedside and shook his hand. "It is good to see you again, son, but what is all this?" He indicated to the cast on the Doctor's leg. "Jack here tells me you've broken your leg pretty good and proper and looking at that cast I'd say he's not wrong?"

"It's broken in fifteen places," the Doctor commented sounding a mix of worried, appalled, and somehow almost proud of the fact.

"Fifteen?!" Wilfred was stunned.

"Oh, so not it is allowed to be fifteen?" Martha teased the Time Lord and he tutted at her making her laugh.

""So what evil were you fighting to hurt yourself so badly? Wilfred asked taking the Doctor's hand.

"The evil ladder people." Jack commented moving to stand beside Martha.

"Ladder people?" Wilfred glanced at the Captain and then at the Doctor. "Ladder?"

"I fell off a ladder," the Doctor admitted knowing there was no way of getting around it. "I was trying to repair the TARDIS," the Doctor explained to him. "The ladder tipped up and I feel off it, I hit my head and bust my leg up." The Doctor tried to sound casual about it in front of Donna's grandfather, there was still a hint of fear in his voice, he wasn't going to be able to mask it completely, but both Jack and Martha could see he was trying to be brave about it. It showed them that rather than they being secretly worried about what the Doctor would think of them and seeking his approval, the Doctor was actually worried about what Wilfred would think of him and wanted to get some kind of approval from him. It made them both smile.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart and a genius?" Wilfred took the Doctor's hand and winked at him. "That's what my Donna always said. Made me promise never to tell you she said it, but she can't remember now so it's different isn't it? Always said that you were so amazingly clever and brilliant. Sounds to me like she was mistaken and that you're a bit of a klutz."

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed and chuckled.

"So, how long are you going to be laid up like this?" Wilfred asked the Doctor as he moved to sit on the stool offered to him by Martha.

"I'm not entirely sure yet," the Doctor admitted and looked toward Martha who would have more of an idea though he knew enough to know that there was going to be no certainty to anything this early in the process.

"Are you happy to discuss the details of your injury and stay with Wilf?" Martha double checked with the Doctor.

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Okay, good, so what about we have some breakfast first and then go through the films together?" Martha suggested. The Doctor still hadn't seen beyond his foot on the scans. She thought that with Wilf there the Doctor might have been calmer and more able to discuss it all properly. Martha had not yet got the Doctor to agree to have something to eat from the menu card for breakfast and the Time Lord had been a little difficult in his unenthusiastic approach to nutrition claiming that he still felt sick and wasn't hungry and didn't want to eat anything. Martha wondered what kind of affect Donna's grandfather was going to have on the Time Lord's appetite.

"Are you going to have some breakfast?" Martha asked the older man.

"What is there on offer, love?" Wilfred asked. Martha retrieved the card from the Doctor's bed where the Time Lord had shown more of an interest in it and she handed it to Wilf instead.

"Oh, no question, a bacon and egg roll would go down a treat," Wilfred suggested. "Sylvia has been trying to get me to have this high bran cereal in the morning, with skimmed milk!" he complained and looked to the Doctor. "It looks just like rabbit droppings and I can't imagine it tastes much different either! But you can't beat a bacon and egg roll can you, lad?" He prompted.

"Have you decided if you're going to eat or not?" Martha asked the Time Lord.

"Of course he is going to eat!" Wilf exclaimed. "You need to keep your energy up, son, even if you don't much feel like it, isn't that right, doctor?" he asked Martha rather than the Doctor. That had to get a bit complicated. Martha nodded and looked to the Time Lord.

"I'll have the same as Wilfred," the Doctor acknowledged.

"Jack?"

"I think I'll make it easy and have the same too," Jack agreed. "Bacon and egg rolls all round. Do they come with sauce?" Jack asked.

"There is red or brown sauce in the kitchen," Martha offered. "I've got a full order coming in this morning too to stock that right up," she advised. "Can't be having you running out of food while you're here," she teased the Captain.

"As the Doctor pointed out yesterday, it is my Artron enhanced metabolism that makes me eat a lot, I'm not greedy."

"I didn't say you weren't greedy," the Doctor commented and Wilf chuckled imagining that they had to be bickering all the time. Martha arranged for Gerald to put the order in for the breakfasts, the bread buns used for the rolls weren't that big so Martha ordered two for Jack, Wilfred, and for the Doctor and agreed that Gerald could have what he wanted from the menu. He had brought in half a dozen fresh croissants in as Jack had suggested the night before, so he wasn't quite sure what to do with them either, but Martha assured him that they'd get eaten too and then gave him the money for them so he was not out of pocket.

"How is Donna?" the Doctor asked Wilfred quietly.

"She's good, lad," Wilf assured him. "Working hard. She dropped me off this morning on the way in to work, she's got a three month contract not far from here. She's enjoying it and she's hoping that she might get taken on at the end of the three months. I know it is far removed from what she was doing with you," Wilf commented hoping that the Doctor didn't feel that it was a let-down. "But, she is good at what she does. You don't need to feel bad about what happened to Donna, it wasn't your fault. She is fine and I know you did everything you could to protect her, I think she is more secure in her own abilities than she was before you met her and her mother is less dominating, so, things are still better than they were. You did nothing wrong," Wilf assured him. "It was those blasted dalek pepper pots, Doctor, not you, so I don't want you to be feeling bad about it," he warned. "She is living a life and she's a damned sight better than you are at the moment." Wilf indicated toward the cast on his leg.

"I miss her," the Doctor almost whispered to Donna's grandfather almost forgetting that Jack and Martha were also in the room.

"Aye, you must do." Wilf understood. "I suppose I think she misses you sometimes too. She just doesn't know it is you she is missing. She's got her job and I think she's got herself a new man as well, though that is early days and she has not come clean about it yet. All the signs are there though," Wilf commented. "I don't think he works where she is based at the moment, but she's going out and making herself look nice and things. She is smitten about someone, so let's hope that it is a good one this time/"

"If you wanted, Jack could investigate and do some background checks," the Doctor suggested. Jack laughed at the idea of him going out under cover to investigate Donna's new boyfriend on the Doctor's behalf, but of course he would do that if the Doctor and Wilfred wanted him to.

"I think we can let nature take its course." Wilfred smiled at the Doctor's concern. "But, I will bear that in mind. You don't need to worry about Donna," Wilfred assured him. "She is okay. I am more worried about you."

"You don't need to be," the Doctor offered bravely, but he was let down and he paused as the cowboys were up and running. They had managed to limit them to ponies that were partially broken but some of them had attitudes that made them difficult to control and to rein in. The Doctor was entirely grateful to the medical team for all the assistance they had given him, but it was not enough and the brave face Donna's grandfather deserved crumbled as he groaned.

"I'm sorry…" the Doctor gasped as he grimaced and the pony bucked a couple to times. It was holding the bit in its teeth, shaking its head up and down and refusing to settle down and allow the rider to control him effectively. The rider pulled the reins shorted and dug his heels in setting the pony off in a galloping bucking run around the paddock. The animal received a comforting part on the shoulder as he accepted the rider and then settled back down. The Doctor sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing in through hi nose to draw oxygen before he dared to believe that the pony had settled. Occasionally a last minute buck would take him by surprise, but it was done.

"Okay?" Martha checked and the Doctor nodded, exhausted and a little demoralised.

"Sorry," the Doctor signed as Wilfred was watching with concern. Wilfred's concerns were heightened by that too, the incredible, amazing man was stricken and had been left groaning in pain and was now apologising for it?

"What was that?" Wilfred checked, "Your leg?"

"It gets worse for a bit every now and then." The Doctor nodded. "Martha has made it a lot easier than it was, it was much worse before. It is nothing particular to worry about, it is just where a nerve is affected in my leg. I just need to put up with it until I can have surgery when the swelling has gone down," the Doctor advised Wilfred calmly despite the panic that had accompanied previous discussions about the state of his leg.

"You're leg must be pretty bad if it's still hurting like that," Wilfred commented.

"He is also awkward when it comes from medicating," Martha suggested.

"But he's got fifteen breaks?" Wilfred remembered what the Doctor had told him.

"He has several breaks in his leg which are associated with four areas of injury, but fifteen is stretching it, and, there is nothing that is giving us too much concern with regards him making a full recovery," Martha commented. "It is just going to take treatment, time, and hard work, but he'll be fine."

"You don't do things by half do you, lad?" Wilfred commented. "And, you fell off a ladder? You weren't even off saving the universe?"

"No, I was between troubles."

"So he decided to find some and deliver it onto our doorstep instead," Martha teased the Time Lord. She wondered if they could keep Donna's grandfather on tap. The change in the Doctor's manner as quite substantial as he was obviously making an effort not to be consumed by his leg. She knew it remained worrying and painful, but he was behaving and putting on a brave face. She didn't know how long it would take him to crack again, so she had to make the most of it, make sure he ate and make sure that they had a chance to discuss his leg. It was clear that the Doctor obviously cared very deeply for the older man who managed to get away with called a 900 plus year old Time Lord lad and son, and, actually it felt quite right with him doing so. She realised the Doctor had found himself more than a best friend in Donna, he had almost found himself a grandfather to go with it.

"So, what have you been up to apart from falling off ladders?" Wilfred asked the Doctor. "Have you found someone else to show the universe and to look after you yet?" he checked. He knew that he would have to before long, but the Doctor looked immensely sad as he shook his head. He was not ready to move on yet, and, if he was going to die soon then it would be unfair and unsafe wouldn't it?

"Are you sure Donna is okay?" the Doctor pressed.

"She's fine, son. I promise." Wilfred rubbed the Doctor's shoulder. "She's fine."

Gerald came back in for breakfast bringing a box filled with separately wrapped bacon and egg sandwiches in it. He got plates and bottles of red or brown sauce from in the kitchen and showed a member of the catering team who had been to the NAAFI to fill Martha's order for a full selection of foods. Based on the order they suspected that they had several patients in the East Wing and they stocked up accordingly, not realising that they just had a Time Lord and an immortal.

If Wilfred had not been there the Doctor may not have tried to eat the bacon and egg roll he was presented. It was in a floury white bap and had two slices of bacon in and a fried egg that still had a soft yoke in it. He was still feeling a bit nauseous so he didn't add any sauce to it, but he knew he had to eat and he knew that if he didn't then Martha would comment on it and the Wilfred would be worried. He worked his way through the first half of his sandwich, but by the time that had settled he realised that a fair part of the nausea was generated by hunger. In the end Martha had to tell him to take it easy or he might have eaten enough to cause a new wave of nausea if he ate too much.

Once they had eaten Martha had to do some rounds to ensure all the medics were where they were supposed to be for the start of the day. There were several clinics running, but the patients would not be arriving until first appointments which were set at ten or ten thirty depending on the clinic. She had her own clinic to run for the day, relieving Luke of his normal duties so that he could do the autopsy. She left the Doctor with Gerald to assist with any medical needs, and Jack and Wilfred to keep him company.

She'd been worried about leaving him, but not while Wilfred was there. He was the clearly the tonic the Time Lord needed. She knew it was going to be difficult for Wilfred to spend too much time there because of the questions that might be asked of his daughter and granddaughter, but she hoped that he'd come back regularly until the Doctor was recovered. She wondered if the line 'I'll tell Wilfred if you don't behave' would work on the Time Lord. She smiled to herself as she started to sort out her patient records for the day. She expected that it probably would.


	16. Chapter 16

Doctor Luke Wilson had been tasked off site the previous day, but he had taken a couple of liberties and had met with his wife and attended parents' evening for his eight year old step daughter. He'd done all the visits he had to do, but he'd not come back on site to log his paperwork knowing he could do that early prior to clinic starting. He had tried to ring in to speak to Doctor Jones and confirm that it would be alright not to come back to base but each time he'd called through she'd been with a patient so he did not disturb her. He knew she was also involved in an urgent autopsy so she was going to be incredibly busy.

He went to work earlier than usual in order to log his reports from the previous day and to submit two prescriptions so the drugs could be ordered in time for the morning pharmacy delivery. He would then drop the drugs off to the patients on his way home from shift so he knew Martha would not have minded him not coming back in, especially since he arrived more than an hour before his scheduled start time to ensure everything was logged correctly and medications were ordered.

It was only when he got onto base that he realised that the patient Martha had been dealing with was the Doctor and that he had been reassigned off his UNIT based duties for that day and onto the autopsy. It was typical. The one day he had not returned to base he had been reassigned. He hoped Martha would understand.

Dr Wilson did his write ups and put the drugs orders in and then went straight through to the autopsy lab aware that it was an urgent autopsy of an unknown subject. It was a quarantined autopsy so he had to get all the protective gear on before he went into the lab. It was a pain, but necessary and as a regular in the lab he had his own kit the same as Martha did.

It sounded like they'd had a busy day while he had been out doing the visits the day before. From what had been discussed in the nurse's base while he logged his reports was that Martha had spent the night in the East Wing with the Doctor and that their living alien patient had a severely broken leg and had not had a comfortable night. Luke believed that was a shame.

He would have to go along and check Martha was alright. He knew how much she cared for the Time Lord and he also knew she might be feeling a bit emotionally vulnerable after her break up with Tom, especially when the nurses reported that Captain Jack of Torchwood had also spent the night in the East Wing. They were two names that Martha kept close to her heart. He'd get the autopsy ready to go, then fetch her a latte, ensure she was okay and knew why he'd not come back the night before, and he'd see how far she had got with the autopsy that he was taking over for her.

Luke had not autopsied and extra terrestrial before, but he had assisted Martha on more than one occasion and he had gone solo on human autopsies when he'd had to. She always said that the way the body worked was generally the same even if the structures looked different and were located in different areas the biological machine performed the same general functions of sensation, respiration, nutrition, and reproduction and using those markers as the guide ensured that even the most strange looking organisms could be rationalised.

Walt Hildon had been assigned to help with the autopsy. That was good. Luke had worked with Walt many times. Walt was in his early forties the same as he was and that meant they had more in common than some of the youngsters that had been brought in. Doctor Jones deserved the position that she held, but he was not sure on some of the young medics that had not completed their final year training yet but were working and training as medics. Walt would not be there until nine, but that meant he could get a bit ahead.

Luke got the subject out of the drawer and transferred it onto the main bench and then accessed Martha's autopsy notes and read through them at the same time as looking at the strange organism on the bench. It did not fill himself with confidence when Martha's dictation indicated that she had never seen anything like the organism on the slab. If Martha had never seen anything like it when she had gone off travelling with the Doctor she was now taking care of in the East Wing then what hope did he have or getting to the bottom of it. Martha Jones had her own sealed and classified case files and she didn't know what it was?

There was a note on the file for Luke personally and it indicated that Martha would be available to consult so Luke decided that while waiting the forty minutes for Walt to arrive in he'd fetch Martha that latte and discuss the autopsy with her. She must have had some kind of game plan on how she was going to proceed so he would find out what that was and then use that as a guide. He knew Martha wouldn't mind sharing her plans, it was not like she precious about her knowledge and plans. In terms of his career, the last thing he wanted to do was miss the opportunity to carry out such an autopsy, but messing it up? That would be worse than career over.

Luke didn't bother putting the subject back into the drawer. It was only half an hour now until Walt arrived in and he'd want to get straight on. He went back into the airlock with Martha's notes and removed the protective clothing he'd put on over the top of his suit. He went in search of lattes and then in search of the medical director for consultation.

Martha was not in her office which was Luke's first port of call, but there was a whole load of medical files out on a trolley. He looked at the first one on top and it was for a patient that was coming in for the 10.30 clinic that he had supposed to be doing. It looked like Martha was going to take over it for him so he could do the autopsy without interruption. He wondered if Martha was disappointed that she was not going to be able to lead on the autopsy, it was certainly an unusual specimen and from what he heard it had been sent to their lab by none other than Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart. That was some recommendation to be had.

He knew that Martha enjoyed clinic, and some of the young soldiers on the patient list could do with seeing the medical director and being told that they were at risk of being taken off active duty if they did not comply with their treatment regimes. Martha would do that and her warnings carried more weight since she was the one who had the authority to sanction that kind of action. He could see at least three names of soldiers on the list who were not compliant with the treatment for chronic conditions and who believed that their bodies was stronger than their conditions predicted and then usually ended up driving themselves into crises that could be avoided if they sensibly modified their behaviours to manage their condition.

"Doctor Jones is running your clinic this morning," Anita advised Doctor Wilson when she saw him checking the files.

"Do you know where she is?"

"She's returned to the East Wing until the start of clinic. She has taken most of her files in there, so, I expect that is where we will find her until the Doctor is discharged."

"Have you met him yet?" Luke asked.

"I would not say I have officially met him. I assisted when they were reducing his injury for casting. The poor guy woke up from a triple dose of ketamine before they had finished. He wasn't in any fit state for introductions. I've not been in this morning, but Doctor Sutherland has. He says that the Doctor had a rough night but seems more settled this morning."

"And he's broken his leg?" Luke checked.

"I am not sure that does the injury justice. Martha has quarantined and classified his file so there are not too many people trying to get information on him, but he's got Mr. Lloyd worried. His leg is in a state, but I am sure Doctor Jones will discuss it with you if she needs to."

"I need to catch up with her regarding the autopsy," Luke advised.

"I will be glad when that is done and the body is gone," Anita admitted nervously. "It is giving me the creeps." Luke smiled sympathetically but did not comment on the nonsensical idea that a dead alien body could or should be giving an experienced nurse like Anita something as asinine as the creeps. Anita tended to get inexplicably nervous from time to time about things. Doctor Jones believed it to be a quirk of her personality that was endearing and just a sensitivity to the environment. Luke believed she tended towards being neurotic when the mood took her.

"I am sure we will be done by the end of the day," Luke humoured her.

"Maybe," Anita sounded wistful as if she was thinking about something else.

"And, Doctor Jones is in the East Wing?"

"Yes, with Doctor Sutherland," Anita confirmed. Luke left Martha's office and headed to the East Wing. He was not surprised to find that a level four quarantine had been put in place. It meant those without a medical need to go in were not to intrude and they would not want people in and out when they had a patient who held a celebrity status within UNIT. There was a protocol for logging in and out and the current log showed that Martha, Gerald, and two civilian visitors were in the East Wing along with a single patient. The patient's identity was written in thick red pen as 'the Doctor' the colour of the ink an immediate warning to any medics entering that the patient had serious and potentially life threatening allergies to normal medications, or, in the Doctor's case was the closest they got to 'not human'.

Rather than go into the East Wing and breech the quarantine Dr Wilson pressed the buzzer. Gerald came out to see who wanted permission to access and was surprised to see that it was Luke. He could have just entered despite the quarantine, but instead was waiting patiently.

"You are allowed in," Gerald opened the door. "It's only a level four quarantine."

"I didn't want to disturb the Doctor if he is sleeping?"

"He's having tea," Gerald commented and then added. "He is always having tea."

"I need to speak to Martha about the autopsy."

"Oh, have you cut into it yet?" Gerald's curiosity was piqued. "It's weird looking isn't it? What is it like under those scales?"

"I haven't started yet, but it is strange looking," he agreed with the younger medic. "I'm about to start. You could come and assist if you wanted to? I've got Walt coming in, but I am sure you could both assist considering the nature of the subject?"

"I am assigned here today."

"I am sure Doctor Jones would release you if you wanted to assist?"

"I think I'd rather stay here today," Gerald admitted. "I am assisting with the Doctor and if the pain he is in does not settle then they will have to take him into surgery and I'd like to be involved in that. In the meantime I can help here."

"By making tea?"

"There is nothing wrong with that, and, he is interesting when he's not in too much pain. He needs a small dedicated team and I want to be a part of that from the start. When he goes into surgery it is going to be hard and they keep telling him it is going to be alright, but they have to use removable fixation and I don't know how they will be able to do it all together so I want to see it through with him," Gerald commented.

"Fair enough," Luke accepted and smiled happy that Gerald was dedicating himself like that, the world needed more doctors who valued their patients and with Martha as a mentor he was sure that Gerald would do just fine, even if he would have liked him to assist with the autopsy.

"Is Martha free to come out?" Luke recalled why he had gone to the East Wing in the first place.

"Why don't you just come in?" Gerald pushed the door open wider and Luke went in. He saw how Martha had set an office work space up at the side of the Doctor's room so she could work and keep an eye on her patient. There were two people Luke did not know in the room, but the log indicated civilian visitors so he expected they were them.

"Doctor Jones? May I intrude a moment?" Luke requested her attention. "Can I have five minutes of your time please for a consultation?" He asked formally not sure what protocols they were following in front of the famed scientific advisor. He could see just looking at the Time Lord that he was not comfortable. His leg was cast from toe to hip and split along its length. It was elevated high and he looked worn and exhausted.

"Of course," Martha confirmed. "First, though, you can meet the Doctor," she advised. "And, our friends Wilfred and Jack," she indicated to the two visitors who acknowledged the medic. "Doctor?" Martha got his attention. "This is Doctor Luke Wilson, he is one of our medical team here and a specialist in thoracic medicine."

"Thoracic medicine?" the Doctor looked thoughtful and then addressed Martha. "So he's not here to prod my leg?"

"No," Martha confirmed.

"In that case," the Doctor extended his hand toward the medic. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"And you," Dr Wilson shook his hand, noting that he felt quite cool. "I was sorry to hear that you had been injured."

"Thank you," the Doctor commented not sure how to respond to it, but then he noticed that Luke wasn't interested in his response at all. He was looking at the monitors that Martha had left in place to measure his physical response to the nerve pain when it hit. It as showing his heart rates on the screen though she had agreed to turn the double bleep off before it drove them all mad, it was still flashing the double pulse and showing his heart rates on the monitor. "Thoracic medicine?" the Doctor queried and looked at Martha. She chuckled and nodded noticing the same as the Time Lord had, the newly acquainted medic was watching the monitors with a sense of amazement.

"So, it's actually true?" Luke commented and tapped the monitor directly as if it would converge and show a single heart beat.

"Yes, it is true."

"But, how do they both fit?" Luke looked at the Doctor. His chest cavity seemed to be no bigger than a human's. In fact he looked quite slim though he had seen photographs of the Doctor in other guises so he knew he was of a comparable size to a human. "How is there room for them?" he asked curiously.

"They are only about 70% the size of a human's," the Doctor commented freely quite happy to talk about something other than his leg. As long as he didn't decide he wanted to take a closer look, well, not an actual look. He thought he might play game considering the pep talks Martha had given him about cooperation being in his best interest. He could submit to a non-invasive scan if Dr Wilson wanted him to. It would kill some time wouldn't it?

"Are they in parallel or in series?" Luke asked the Doctor with a near childlike excitement.

"They can be either depending on the demands being placed on the system. In normal rest they remain in series but there are adrenaline driven valves that can divert them into a parallel system and double the efficiency. They can also operate independently of each other for a short period of time thought that is not very effective."

"That is incredible," Luke commented and Martha rolled her eyes at him.

"Have you any idea what they are talking about?" Wilfred asked Jack quietly, but the Captain shook his head.

"His hearts," Martha let them into the conversation. "But, I am sure that is not the reason why you came here?" She checked with Dr. Wilson.

"No, course, but?" Luke glanced to the Doctor. "Would you remind if I returned later?"

"No dissecting?" the Doctor commented and smiled.

"Course not," Dr. Wilson laughed, but then he realised that he could have offended the Time Lord by getting excited about his chest cavity rather than being concerned about him being an injured patient in pain with what was by all accounts a serious leg injury. "Sorry."

"It's okay," the Doctor seemed to realise what Luke was thinking at the same time. "And, yes, you can come back later and I'd be happy to discuss it with you. Anything that does not involve my leg is fine by me."

"And, how is your leg?" Luke checked with him.

"Oh, now you have involved my leg." The Time Lord sighed.

"Behave," Martha scolded the Doctor amiably. Luke smiled. He liked the Doctor already, though he was sure if he was his patient he might not be as keen. He was a fair judge on how well patients were going to comply and he was fairly sure that the Doctor was going to give Mr Lloyd a run for his money and that was never a bad thing. James Lloyd was the best orthopaedic specialist this side of the Atlantic, but he knew it and he followed old school rules about forming relationships with patients. He would not be sitting in there making the Doctor cups of tea or holding his hand, and it looked like the Doctor really needed side of things.

Luke preferred the ethos that Martha was trying to instil in the young doctors and that it was not beneath them to make a cup of tea or to sort out a bed pan and that if they paid attention to those patient needs as closely as the nursing staff then their overall treatment of their patients would improve. Luke was sure the only reason why James tolerated what he felt was wishy-washy nurse doctoring was because he fancied Martha, and, as much as the orthopaedic surgeon resented it at first, she was in charge and he had no choice because Martha had the backing of more people than she didn't.

"Doctor Jones?" Luke prompted. "I will return during my break if it is convenient to you, Doctor," he advised the Time Lord and then stepped into the corridor with Martha. "I bet he has been giving James a hard time hasn't he?" Luke grinned as he checked his perceptiveness cheekily.

"A bit, yes," Martha confirmed and then laughed.

"Good."

"Hmmm," Martha didn't comment on that.

"How bad is his leg then?" Luke checked.

"It is serious, several breaks and full fracture dislocations of his ankle and his knee with a highly unstable comminuted spiral fracture of the mid-shaft tibia," Martha explained. "It's serious but we're confidence we will get there. He is advantaged by his biology in the sense that he heals more quickly and more effectively than a human. Certainly the surgical incisions will heal at a rate that we're not used to seeing. He's otherwise fit and healthy. He's just been shocked and he's experiencing a neurological pain we've not been able to manage and has involved further manipulation on two occasions now which is another of the reasons he doesn't like James much," Martha commented. "But, you did not come here to discuss either the Doctor's leg or James did you?"

"No, I'm about to begin the autopsy, and, to apologise for not returning to base last night. It was Cherie's parents' evening and I went straight there. All the reports are filed and I've ordered medications that I will deliver on the way home tonight," Luke explained.

"It's fine, as long as you are up to date and the primary autopsy is completed today."

"I've viewed the subject and your notes."

"It is quite something isn't it?"

"If you have never seen anything like it?" Luke checked. "How were you going to proceed?"

"I was just going to follow normal pathology protocols," Martha stated.

"So, you'd do it the same as a human?"

"Yes, the process we follow provides our control and rationality. It's a different organism but if we follow the same routine we will get there. We complete visual observations, then we check the wounds, and then we take the samples. I was going to see if I could remove one of the complete scales for analysis, and then we start to examine the internal structures and try to determine how it functioned when it was alive," Martha advised.

"Okay."

"Because one of the main purposes of the autopsy is to attempt to determine where it originated from we need to do a full DNA profile, and, we do now have a resource that we did not have when I first started my initial observations."

"We do?"

"Yes, the Doctor," Martha confirmed and nodded. "He seems more settled today and he has eaten. I need to continue to monitor his pain levels and he has not seen James yet this morning, but I will clear it with Colonel Mace for the Doctor to have access to the information. If he will allow us to consult with the Doctor he may be able to provide us with invaluable insight into the organism and its origins. Can you do a full observation again and record on video rather than just audio. I didn't do that yesterday as there was no need and I just maintained my audio file for dictation purposes. If you can both record a video and run a live feed then we will be able to access that from the Doctor's room once the Colonel has cleared him. We can show the Doctor and see if he has a clue as to what it is and where it has come from."

"So you want me to start again and run a live feed through?"

"Yes, but make sure that you record as well as I won't access the feed until I have permission from Colonel Mace. I don't think he will prevent access, but I don't want to presume he will grant it and then end up undermining his authority in the matter. He is less likely to be cooperative later if I do."

"Best to keep them in order," Luke agreed. "I can do that. I'll run it all on a video file and a live feed. Do you want me to wait until after clinic before I start and then you can clear it with Colonel Mace and you can have a clear live feed through and consult."

"No, crack on with it," Martha confirmed. "Don't forget to see if you can get images from it as well. We have struggled to get X-ray penetration but you could try different wavelengths and record the effect it has on the scales."

"Okay," Luke agreed. He checked his watch. It was ten to nine which meant that Walt would be arriving ready to start. He returned to the staff base and picked him up and then explained what they were going to do on the way to lab and as they put their protective clothing back on.


	17. Chapter 17

"It's a bit warm in here now isn't it?" Luke complained and Walt nodded his agreement. It was normally kept on the cool side in the lab for obvious reasons. They did not want their subjects to decompose more quickly than they could perform their pathological analyses and tests. There was a thermometer mounted on the wall and he went and checked it. It was showing it was 23 degrees in there. That was five degrees higher than the thermostat was set at and there was still warm air flowing out of the ventilation system.

Before the daleks attacked the base the autopsy lab was a second canteen area so it was not designed as an autopsy lab. The floor tiles were what annoyed Walt the most about the room as spilled bodily fluids tended to gather in the grout and made it harder to clean. Luke was more concerned about the temperature than the floor, the ventilation was supposed to have been fixed the week before, and then the week before that, and most weeks before that for months. The maintenance team were struggling to isolate the ventilation system for the autopsy lab and the rooms in the adjacent building that were on the same system and housed civilian administrators.

They felt that 18 degrees was too cold for them to be sitting typing and did not care that when they hiked their thermostats up to a balmy tropical climate that the bodies started to rot. They'd soon care when the smells of putrefaction and decomposition floated through the ventilators but they could not allow that to happen, they had to work around it and get air coolers and things into the lab rather than the administrators putting a jumper on or working with a heater.

Luke got on the phone to the maintenance controller and advised him that there was warm air being pumped into the autopsy lab and that they were trying to work on an urgent autopsy. The maintenance controlled promised to send a team to check the air temperature remotely and so they did not disturb the work, but would check back and ensure that the temperature cooled down again. At least the maintenance controller was more aware of the consequences of a hot autopsy lab than the administrators.

Luke started to take his video and audio observations of Subject 76584. Walt held the camera as Luke repeated all the observations and measurements that Martha had done on video so the Doctor called view them and assist. He was all for using the Time Lord's expertise white he was there and he hoped Mace would be as well so he didn't mind repeating the work Martha had done the day before.

He didn't know what maintenance were doing though because he'd been working for twenty minutes and as he stood under the vent he could feel the warm air still being pumped in. He got Walt to go and video the temperature gauge on the wall and it now showed that it was 24.4 degrees. It was not uncomfortable to work in but it was unacceptable for the autopsy lab. They needed to press on before it started to get too warm and the body started to decompose. Refrigeration would only keep it fresh for so long and most biological organisms were massive depositories for bacteria that did not die when their host died. The continued to reproduce and multiply and without the immunity of the living organism keeping them in check they started the cycle of decomposition and returning the nutrients of life back to the earth.

Luke and Walt videoed the effect on the scales covering Subject 76584. It was quite amazing. When the energy from the X-ray was incident on the plain grey scales they became turquoise and iridescent like oil on water. It was quite beautiful, almost like a sheen of blue green mother of pearl. What was more incredible was that there was no penetration at all of the energy, rather than seeing the opaque images on the film as if it were made of bone, there was nothing. It did not affect the X-ray film at all, it simply reflected the energy back off again.

"What is that?" Walt asked as Luke did it several times to see the effect up close.

"I have no idea," Luke admitted. "You got it on video didn't you? I am sure that the Doctor will want to see that. Let's stop there for a moment and upload the video that we have got into the recorded file so they can review it as well, and then we can carry on and examine the wound on it's head."

"Okay," Walt confirmed. "I'll do that, you get back onto maintenance. It is starting to feel warm now." Walt suggested. He downloaded the footage, putting the camera on the bench to download and connect it into the PC. He let it carry on recording so that it would not break the live feed they'd already set up through the wi-fi capabilities in the lab. It was touch and go whether it would work again if they stopped it and set it going again.

"Are they going to fix it?" Walt asked Luke as he got off the phone from the maintenance controller who assured him that he was going to be fixed shortly and that the administration team had been told to turn all their thermostats down to 17 degrees in the meantime and they were taking some hot air blowers into their offices to satisfy them because the cold air blower for the autopsy lab had not been repaired yet since it had blown out earlier in the week.

"They say that they are," Luke confirmed. "So, why do you think it glows when we X-ray it?"

"I have no idea, have you got an idea?"

"Loads," Luke commented. "It could be some kind of camouflage if the environment it comes form is heavy with X-rays, I mean that is just proton bombardment isn't it? That could be natural in the environment and it is protection against that so that there is no cell ionisation if there is a constant level of X-rays coming in to it, or, it could be some kind of communication process, or maybe it is even a way that the organism stores energy like some bacteria can photosynthesize or use chemosynthesis," Luke offered. "We'll have to take some samples and study the process."

As they talked there was a clunk and the ventilators all shut down completely. "That didn't sound too good," Walt commented. He went and checked the thermometer on the wall. "It's passed 26 degrees now."

"I'd not worry too much about the temperature with the ventilation off, we're in air tight room. If there is no ventilation? How long do you think the oxygen in here will last?" he asked only half having a joke with Walt who looked panicked for a moment. Luke got back on the phone to the maintenance controller who apologised and then grumbled about buildings not being used for the purpose they were built and half his maintenance team being over in warehouse seven making sure that the crash damage was made safe. Luke decided to earn some brownie points and remind the maintenance coordinator that the pilot of the TARDIS was injured and had saved his life more times than he had changed his socks. It would be recorded on the video.

As Luke talked on the phone and Walt ensure that the video feed was being sent directly through to download onto the system to be viewed on any medical system as a live feed they were both looking away from the autopsy subject and neither of them saw the three long finger-like appendages on the subject's right arm slowly flex.


	18. Chapter 18

Sarah Jane had promised her son that she'd ask the Doctor if he could visit that afternoon. It was Saturday so he didn't have to go to school, but he'd been disappointed when he said he couldn't go with her that morning. She'd seen how unwell the Doctor was and she didn't want him to get a bad view of her son, or vice versa, but her son would be full of questions; the TARDIS, the Doctor, and the daleks had been a full on topic of discussion for three months since the planet was moved across the universe.

He wanted to know absolutely everything and if the Doctor was in the right frame of mind she thought it would be good for the Time Lord, but if he was still rocked with pain that made him cry out and tears spring from his eyes despite his inordinate strength then it would do not good for either of them. She had left him behind with a top up for his Oyster card so that if the Doctor was keen to meet him then it was only a tube ride to UNIT from Ealing Broadway and he could either bus or walk to there. He was not however to discuss any of it with Clyde or Rani, but her son was good at being discrete.

It was only just after nine when Sarah Jane arrived at the main Gatehouse. As the same guys were on the gate as the day before they just called Private Coates to take her over. He escorted her into the East Wing. Private Coates had been assigned to the medical unit for the day and his unit commander had told him just to base himself in the hospital and he would be available to ferry anyone where they needed to go. It was not a normal rostered position but his first job was to escort Sarah Jane and that was fine.

Sarah Jane was surprised but pleased to see Wilfred was here. When she learned that Jack had been called straight back only ten minutes after she had left with him the day before she was slightly jealous, but she understood the reasoning and Martha had been right that she'd not have left her son alone overnight, not even with Mr Smith and K9 around.

"Good morning," she smiled at the Doctor as she went in. He looked more tired and more worn out as he had done when she left and he was just as pale, though the bruising down his face was much darker and more pronounced. She tried not to be upset about how he looked in case it upset him. She could see that the cast on his leg was now split and there was a section actually missing from it right down the length of his leg though it was covered in ice packs so she couldn't actually see his skin in the gap.

"Hello Sarah," the Doctor greeted her. "You didn't have to rush back so early."

"Of course I did, I was worried about you," Sarah Jane patted his arm. "How are you feeling now? Did you get any sleep?"

"Some," the Doctor confirmed. "Martha gave me some good sleeping tablets and I slept for a while."

"Not for long enough," Martha interjected.

"Is your leg still really painful?"

"It is not as bad as when you were here yesterday, but, yes. It remains painful. I expect there will be no real improvement until after surgery now," the Doctor tried to sound blasé about it, but he sounded tired and drained.

"Can I get you a drink ma'am?" Gerald asked Sarah Jane.

"How about I get you one?" Sarah Jane suggested. "You're the one working. Who else is ready for another drink?" She busied herself getting drinks for everyone including Gerald and Martha. It surprised the Doctor that rather than talk to him for longer than a minute Sarah Jane went and turned the kettle on. He guessed she just didn't really know how to deal with him being hurt and it made him feel a bit bad about it. He was glad she was there though, perhaps he should tell her that. He'd do that when she came back in.

"Right," Martha commented when she read a text that came through on her work phone. "James is on his way down for his morning rounds, so, I want you three to go into the common area and wait please so we can have some privacy in here," Martha instructed. "Then, at half ten I will be going for clinic so we're going to have some quite time until after lunch and visiting will resume at 14.00 so the Doctor can get the rest he needs. You can all stay on site and in the East Wing but you not to all be in here constantly," Martha advised trying to instil some rules so that the Doctor had a chance to rest as well. There was no argument from Jack, Wilfred, or Sarah Jane who all moved out into the common area, but the Doctor pouted.

"Now, don't look at me like that, you need to rest as well," Martha commented. "It is good you have your friends around, but you also need to recuperate and to rest ready for surgery."

"They take my mind off it hurting," the Doctor offered quietly.

"I know they do," Martha caressed his head briefly. "But, you need to just rest quietly as well. With all of them here all the time you're going to do that as much as you should. When James has been in we can have them back in for a while, but you do need to rest until lunchtime too. One of them can stay in here as long as you agree just to watch a film or something quietly, you're going to get more and more tired if you don't rest and you need to conserve your energy for healing. Dr Wilson is doing the autopsy as well and I'd like you to have a look at that if you are up to it later, but at the moment I am not sure you are." Martha commented and the Doctor sighed heavily. He looked worried. "James won't be long."

"Is he going to hurt me?"

"Hopefully he won't have to. He will want to check the cast is not too tight and to see how the swelling is. Now you know about the injury he may want to start discussing how he I planning on stabilising it with you," Martha commented. "Have you got any ideas?"

"I have been trying not to think about it."

"Maybe that is the wrong way to go about it," Martha suggested.

"You're not going to leave me with him, are you?"

"I don't plan to, but Doctor? James isn't going to deliberately hurt you. I know he has caused you pain, but only in his treatment. You don't have to be scared of him."

"I'm not," the Doctor stated indignantly.

"I know he does not have the best bedside manner, but he's not a bad man or anything. He will do all he can for you," Martha tried to assure him, but he Doctor sighed. "What is it?" she asked him sensitively as she sat by his bed and took his hand.

"I don't think he likes me or something," the Doctor admitted. "What if he does want to hurt me? I can't get away from him. I'm stuck."

"James would not maliciously hurt you," Martha commented. "I admit he was a bit off yesterday but I think that was his way of being concerned and not sure of the best way to proceed. He wants to do the best he can for you," Martha explained. "If you talk to him about what he has planned for your leg then maybe you will find it easier too, but I promise you he is not out to hurt you."

"But, you're not going to leave me with him?" the Doctor checked sheepishly.

"Not if you don't want me to," Martha confirmed. "But, you're being daft." She smoothed his hair down. "I'll get some more ice for your face when James has been in," she commented checking the bruising and swelling. "Is that sore?"

"It throbs a bit and it hurts if I poke it," the Doctor commented and Martha looked at him. "I know, don't poke it." He got in before Martha did. "It is nothing like my leg," the Doctor admitted quietly. "Even with all the drugs it is still hurting a lot all the time."

"Is there anything else we have immediate access to that you can take or anything you want us to try?" Martha asked him. "Can you tell which part of your leg is the most painful?"

"It varies," the Doctor admitted. "At the moment it feels like it is worst down toward my ankle, but sometimes it is like I can't feel anything beyond the pain in my knee, and other times it is the middle. It always seems to be the middle unless it is something else?" He knew that sounded daft, but he thought Martha would understand it. At least she nodded as if she did. He didn't know if he understood it himself, he'd never felt pain like it on a steady level and then when the cowboys came? He was sure it was going to kill him eventually if it continued. "I wish I could tell you there was something Time Lord trick to stop it or some kind of drug hidden in the TARDIS but there isn't. It just hurts so much and I don't know what to try," he groaned as he complained quietly. He didn't want to keep on complaining and groaning and moaning about it, it just hurt more than he imagined it ever would.

"I'm sorry," Martha knew she was not giving him the kind of relief she should have been able to. If they had a human patient presenting with the same kind of injury they would be dosed up on morphine and diazepam and ibuprofen until they existed in a drugged haze, but they'd be more pain free than the Doctor was. "We will see if James has come up with anything else," Martha suggested. The Doctor didn't want to see him again. He knew he had to though and he supposed that he knew it wasn't personal, at least it wasn't personal to James Lloyd anyway, it was fairly personal to him – it was his leg!

Martha was holding the Doctor's hand to support him when James went back in. He'd been back on site long enough to get a coffee and to check the roster for the day, but he had been doing plenty of work overnight on his plans for the Doctor's leg. It had kept him awake as he'd tried to work it all out in his mind. He was not used to being kept awake by a patient, but it was a complex injury and he wasn't human, and he wanted to make sure that he was alright. He had read the Doctor's file as had everyone else at UNIT, he knew that they owed him the best possible care and it was down to him to get it right.

"Good morning," he acknowledged Martha and the Doctor together and pulled the chart from the bottom of the bed to review the notes made overnight and to see how the Doctor had been. "How are you feeling?"

"I think the nerve pain has settled a little, but my leg remains painful," the Doctor advised.

"Did you sleep?" James asked him.

"I did for a while."

"It says here that you had 30mg of zolpidem?" James commented and nodded. That was three times the normal heavy dose given to human patients. "It says you had a nightmare? Is that a side-effect of the drug in Time Lords as well?"

"It can be."

"Are you going to try some different sedation tonight?" James asked Martha the question.

"Possibly," Martha nodded.

"There is no harm in taking a daytime dose and trying to get some more rest," James advised the Doctor. "You are not looking well rested this morning and you should be."

"We can have a look at that this afternoon if necessary," Martha offered. "He has some visitors this morning, but I have told him they have to go for a few hours leading into lunch so he can rest."

"I would recommend at least one of them remains on site in case there is any issue he needs support through," James suggested. "So, how is the swelling this morning?" He carefully removed the ice packs from the front of the cast on the Doctor's leg. The Doctor was already wincing and clutching Martha's hand tightly.

"You need to relax, Doctor," Martha told him knowing that the pain was real and not just an anticipatory reaction, but that there was no additional stressor causing it other than that the Doctor had tensed expecting James to hurt him. It created a circle that was unlikely to be broken unless the doctor just accepted that James was on his side and not going to cause him pain every time he was in the room. He was going to experience leg pain like some kind of Time Lord Pavlov dog if he didn't fight against it.

"I see that you applied a double tape?" James commented and looked at the cross of extra sticky medical tape that Martha had applied directly to the Doctor's shin above the breaks in an attempt to add support without having an effect on the swelling. "We often offer a free waxing service to our patients too," James commented knowing the Doctor was going to lose plenty of leg hair when the tape was pulled off.

"He moved quite significantly during the nightmare and we lost reduction at the midshaft fractures to the point where there was skin pressure being applied to his shin at the point of the tape," Martha advised James. "I have taken new scans of the current reduction and posted them to his electronic notes for review. It is not ideal but the neurological aspect of the pain while exacerbated during the nightmare does seem to have reduced again."

"Is that pain tolerable now?" James asked the Doctor directly.

"It is variable," the Time Lord was honest. "Sometimes it is only a minor increase, but at other times it gets quite severe."

"Has it caused any loss of consciousness overnight?"

"Once," Martha confirmed. "The first time after the nightmares was severe."

"The swelling has not reduced at all yet, but I do think we have reached the peak level now," James commented. "I am concerned about the cast around your ankle even with the split." James could see the edges of the cast were digging into the swelling over his undefined ankle.

The colour of his skin was dark mottled purple with bruising so it was hard to see if there was any circulatory effect. He checked the capillary refill in his toes and that appeared good. "Hopefully we will not have to intervene with this, but it needs to be monitored closely. I believe that we can also use a minimally invasive and temporary technique to limit movement within the shaft fractures that may assist with the neurological pain. It may also be necessary if you are prone to more animated nightmares. Are they the result of the sedation, or, are they something that you are prone to ordinarily?" James asked the Doctor.

"He is prone to nightmares," Martha answered for him knowing that the Doctor would not be comfortable talking about them when many related to the Time War.

"We can see how he goes through the day," James commented. "But, if we lose adequate reduction again then I think we should consider a temporary external fixator."

"I did not think we would consider external fixations for stabilisation."

"We're not, not for healing, but until we are able to operate safely," James commented. "It would be minimally invasive and only very temporary, but it would enable us to apply a traction to the mid-shaft fractures and hold they apart to prevent muscle contraction in shortening the leg and restricting the space for the fragmented bone which is why it is being forced into the nerve line. It may also have a significant effect on the level of general pain still being experienced."

"How would you do it?" the Doctor asked curiously.

"We would cut the cast below the point of the shaft fractures to provide some room for movement," James advised him. "Then I would further cut the cast away about here and here." James indicated to points above and below the fractures. "We would then site two anchor pins laterally through the tibia. There are sections of the bone either side of the fracture to provide anchor for that single injury in isolation. I'd bridge the pins with a small external frame. It would be planar and we would put a tension in there that would prevent your muscles from creating the shortening in your leg and allow the fragments enough space to sit outside of the nerve line," James explained.

"It would not be suitable or stable enough for healing, but it would provide an improved stability while you rest here until we can operate properly and with only pin holes require the skin should not lose integrity with the oedema," James commented. "Of course there are some associated risks of infection, but the risks of long term severe pain on your body also need to be considered. If we have not got you comfortable enough for it to be satisfactory and to enable you to rest by the end of today then I would suggest that we might consider doing it tonight."

"So it would be a short planar fixator for that fracture alone?"

"Yes, two pins and two cross braces, just to hold it apart until we can bring it back together. I'd be looking at getting an extension of about an inch over the current leg length as he has experienced some shortening," James commented. "I did some measurements on that last night based on the scans," James advised. "it will be an intermediate process until we can risk the full surgical incisions for plating. He's definitely not going to be able to take an intramedullary nail as there is not enough stable bone to secure it either proximally or distally. Tell you what, I'll show you," James commented.

He turned the screens on the wall and activated the medical interface. He opened a folder that was entitled 'the Doctor – right lower'. There were a number of PDF files in there and some other documents. He opened one of the PDF's which showed a skilled illustration of the Doctor's leg fractures taken from the X-rays and also the fixator that James was planning both on a side view and with an aerial view. James had already worked out the exact lengths that he needed, the tensions he needed to apply, and the force it would put on the other injuries in his leg to ensure it was not contradicted by his ankle or knee.

The Doctor was surprised that so much work had been done by James in the background. He had thought he'd come in, poke him, and then go again and not do much else. He could see that he had put a lot of thought into going as far as to log the serial numbers of the suitable metalwork in stock. The Doctor didn't really fancy it, but, if he tried to force himself to think about the leg fractures without acknowledging that it was his leg then he could see that James was right, it just hurt him too much to be able to maintain a detachment for long and then they were looking at two long pins being hammered right through his smashed leg so that he could be stretched out?

"What do you think?" Martha asked the Doctor who was mimicking a goldfish as if going to say something and then not talking.

"If it was someone else's leg then it would be a good idea and could be contemplated straight away."

"And, why not for your leg?" James asked. "I've looked at the bone density and while your bones are denser they are no more brittle and I believe they will take the nails just fine."

"Yes, they will."

"So, there is no underlying reason why it can't be done other than you don't really want pins hammered through your leg?" Martha checked with the Doctor and he looked sheepish. "If you think that it is a good course of action then perhaps that is what we should be looking at doing? Do you think it will help?" Martha asked the Doctor. He thought for a moment before nodding.

"We will see how we manage the pain today," James advised. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. If the pain is acceptable then I would not push for it as it will introduce a new infection risk."

"I have a very robust immune system. I'm less at risk of infection than your human patients," the Doctor assured James.

"That is good to know," James acknowledged.

"What are all the other files you have there in my folder?" th doctor asked.

"I'm not sure you will want to see them yet," James commented. "They are not finalised, but they are my ideas and plans on how to stabilise each of the injuries you have during the main surgeries so that you can heal. We have to be able to stabilise each of the fractures without it interfering with the stabilisation of adjacent fractures and we have to be able to remove it all with minimal trauma once you have healed. That means we have to adapt some of our standard techniques and I was looking at what we could do last night. It should still be reasonably straight forward and it will give a good result," James advised. "I can show you later. I need to tidy it up a bit yet. It is all in hand written scrawl and it as quite late, but it is certainly a good starting point for further work. We are going to have to make some quite long incisions so we will have to wait for the swelling to reduce significantly. You will have to continue with the anti-inflammatory therapy," James commented.

"I can't have the anti-inflammatory drugs," the Doctor advised James. "The delivery system is not suitable for me at the moment."

"Oh? According to your notes you have had it?" James looked to Martha. "Is that an error?"

"Actually, no, he has had it," Martha confirmed.

"Have I?"

"Yeah," Martha nodded. "I gave it to you last night."

"But?" the Doctor frowned.

"I gave you it just as you were falling asleep with the zolpidem so that you passed out within the drugs but so you were not woken. It was a bit naughty, but if it lasts for 31 hours then we don't have to worry about it again until tomorrow. It should help shouldn't it? I am going to give a dose to the lab as well to see if they can work out a way to recreate it in a water soluble form or so that it can be delivered in a less difficult manner. I gave you a dose into your knee and into your ankle," Martha told the Doctor. "And, you should not have allowed your stock to get so low. I know you can't stock up from Gallifrey but there are other places you can go. Jack has got Mickey bringing his wrist computer back now."

"Is he?" the Doctor had talked about it earlier but he didn't know that Jack had gone through with it. "Mickey? Is he still around?" He had thought he was going to get a whole new life.

"Yeah, he is working for Jack. They lost their computer expert some time ago, so Mickey is doing some technical bits for him."

"He's on his way here?"

"He will be here sometime this morning. Jack left him a message to ring him, I am not sure if he has set out yet, but it's not a problem is it?"

"It will be nice to see him," the Doctor offered, but then he realised hat he'd said. "Even if he is an idiot."

"He's not you know?"

"Yeah, I know," the Doctor admitted. "It's nearly the whole gang."

"It sounds like you have a great many good friends, Doctor," James advised.

"I do."

"You're going to need them to help provide you support once you get out of here," James commented. "Getting you all fixed up is going to be just the start of your road to recovery, but my work last night has further confirmed to me that providing we all do our part that we will get you there."

"If you put the temporary pins through my leg are you going to knock me out properly?"

"Doctor," James began seriously. "I know that you do not particularly look forward to my company and that in the course of my treatment of your leg I have caused you pain and there will be cause for me to do so again before your treatment is completed, but, I can guarantee you that I have no intention of hammering six inch pins through your leg without first ensuring that you are properly anaesthetised."

"Is that a yes?" the Doctor asked Martha cheekily.

"It's a yes," Martha confirmed and James rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to go and take care of the paperwork I have to do, tidy up my work from last night, and then I will call in later and spend some time monitoring your pain levels myself," James advised. "See how we are doing and if we are going to go ahead with stabilising that fracture for you this evening."

"Okay," the Doctor accepted. "Thank you," he added when he got a nudge from Martha.

"You're welcome," James nodded. "And, Doctor Jones? Please keep me up to date?" He asked and Martha confirmed she would. James left again to get on with his other duties.

"See," Martha chuckled and caressed the Doctor's head. "He's not that bad is he?"

"He wants to hammer pins into my broken bones to stretch my leg while he waits to slice me open!" the Doctor exclaimed over dramatically.

"And, you think that is a god idea don't you?" Martha checked.

"I think it might significantly reduce the pain I am in, both the neurological pain and the general levels."

"We will see how things go," Martha offered.

"I can't deal with it much longer," the Doctor admitted quietly as if he were ashamed for being in pain all the time and not being able to handle it.

"We will get there."


	19. Chapter 19

With all the visual observations done and documented both with audio and video feeds Dr Luke Wilson prepared himself mentally to begin the actual autopsy on Subject 76584, which was perhaps the strangest looking organism he'd ever witnessed.

He doubled up his latex gloves just in case as he pulled the trolley over with the sterile tools that would have looked equally well placed in a torture chamber, or surgical theatre, as in the autopsy lab. Both he and Walt had their full protective gear on still, they hadn't gone as far as taking a separate oxygen feed, but they did have full visors down and thick rubberised suits to prevent contamination.

They did not know what they would come across when they cut into the organism. It was unlikely that there would be highly toxic chemicals involved, but it was not beyond the realm of possibility so they did not object to the precautions put in place. They were standard to prevent contamination when looking at an unusual specimen, or, a human who had died in suspicious or uncertain circumstances.

Luke felt like a junior medic rather than a seasoned professional with two decades of experience when he was faced with this particular autopsy subject. It may as well have been the first time he'd taken up a scalpel in the face of the alien lying on the bench in front of him. He had no idea what he was looking at.

"Where do you want to start?" Walt asked as he handled the camera and approached the stainless steel bench with built in drainage to cope with body fluids along with Luke.

"Let's start with an examination of the wound to its head," Luke commented. He picked up a pair of tweezers so he could prod around inside the deep wound to see if he could find any trace that might help determine the cause of the injury and then to see what kind of organic structures he could identify within the deep penetrating wound. The wound was toward the rear of its head but toward the right side, so rather than flip the body right over they tried to turn its head. It rotated easily and freely showing it had a good range of neck movement, or, that it had a broken neck. They could not get penetrative X-rays of the organism so remained unsure of its skeletal structure.

Walt turned a spot light on to illuminate the area where Luke was working and focused the camera onto the doctor's hands as he investigated the wound. "I'm just checking the wound for any foreign material," Luke gave the necessary commentary for the video feed. Walt held the video up close and steady as Luke used the tweezers to move the cracked and broken scaled plate from the edge of the wound out further out the way, lifting it off with a squelching sound. There was a slimy gelatinous material forming a sticky interface between the bottom of the scale and the layer of tissues underneath. It was holding the scale down but letting it move in relation to tissue. It was like a biological glue of some kind.

"Eww," Walt commented.

"We can send a sample through to the lab for analysis," Luke added more professionally though his sentiment was the same as Walt's. Luke stuck a cotton swab into the gelatinous compound, twisting it once to gather some of the mucus. It stuck to the swab and then came up in long sticky strands before snapping and leaving a trail across the side of the alien's head.

"It looks like its brain sneezed," Walt offered for the camera. Luke frowned at him. He knew that the Doctor would be viewing the video and he wanted to set a good example to the scientific advisor. He also wanted to show Martha just how serious and professional he could be when he needed to be after skipping out to his daughter's parents' evening the night before. He secured the sample he had taken for the lab and labelled it as sample one. They could cross reference all the samples they took to the video to get an exact record of where the sample was from. He took a small fragment of the broken scale from the wound as well and put that in a Petri-dish to get to the lab as sample two.

Inside the actual wound there was a layer of reddish brown fibres. It looked to be the under layer of the exoskeleton rather than to be part of the structures beneath it. It had a network of fibres that looked similar to the muscle fibres that he'd be used to seeing in working muscles and it made him wonder if the scales could all move with the muscles and whether the gelatinous compound formed an interface between the two enabling the creature to move fluidly despite its hard surface. The layer was broken in some places, but in others it remained intact covering the edge of the wound as a membrane. Luke used the tweezers to pull it out of the way so he had good access into the wound itself.

Walt repositioned the sport light so that they could see right into the wound. It was about three inches across and hexagonal now he'd removed a part of the damaged scale. It was deep, but it did not go right down into the cavity of the organisms head. There was a solid layer that could have been bone an inch beneath the exoskeleton scales and the other damaged tissues. He tried to scrape the surface of the hard layer with the end of the tweezers but it didn't mark further suggesting it was a bony substance.

"Beneath the fibrous layers there is a hard structure impervious to marking with the tweezers. It is smooth and a uniform grey colour," Luke advised almost forgetting that he had to talk through what he was doing and seeing for the benefit of the tape as he got a bit lost in the awe of what he was doing. He was poking around in an alien's head. He was likely the first person on Earth ever to have seen what he as seeing and that as quite something.

There is a network of thin fibres spreading over the surface of what I believe may be the organisms skull. The structures are about a millimetre in diameter and a blue colour. It is unclear if they are some kind of vessel for transport, or, if they are nerve tissues like some kind of neural net." Luke talked through what he was seeing. "I am going to attempt to remove one of the thread like fibres for closer study," he stated.

Luke gripped one with the tweezers and then used the scalpel to sever it. A clear fluid spurted from the broken tube suggesting that it was under some kind of pressure before it just leaked out slowly. "It is draining. I will collect a sample of this fluid too." He put another sterile swab in and then cut the rest of the small section of the vessel away and placed it on a Petri-dish ready to prepare for a microscope slide and closer examination.

"It is easy to forget how much work is involved in the study and dissection of an unknown species," Luke commented to Walt. They had only looked at the existing head wound for a couple of minutes and they now had three samples for the lab and one for the microscope.

"The same thread like structures are spreading up beneath the membrane under the exoskeleton," Luke advised. "I think it is part of the creature's nervous system. I am not going to attempt to remove an undamaged scale and view the same structures as are visible within the wound," Luke commented. They turned the subject's head the other way to get a comparable scale as where the wound was, assuming there was some kind of symmetry in the nature of the subject's internal anatomy.

Luke put the tweezers down in a shallow tray of sterilising alcohol to make sure that they remained clean while he picked up a scalpel. "I am going to attempt to cut around the scale so that I can lift it off in one piece," Luke advised both for Walt's benefit and for the video. He tried to push the blade down into the gap between two scales. "Blimey, it's a bit tough," Luke commented as the scalpel didn't cut through. "I'm applying a considerable force with the blade and it's not marking," he offered for the tape.

"Whoa?!" Walt jumped back losing focus and direction with the camera for a moment.

"What?!" Luke got a shock from Walt's sudden reaction.

"It moved!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Luke complained.

"I swear it did," Walt stared at the creature but it was still and there was no indication that it had moved at all, but he was sure he'd seen it move through the corner of his eye. It's arm had twitched.

"It's dead, Walt," Luke confirmed to him.

"It bloody moved, Luke, I'm telling you I saw it move." Walt insisted.

"Rewind the camera and check on that?"

"I wasn't filming where it moved I was filming what you were doing. It was it's arm that moved," Walt offered. Luke lifted the Subject's limp and arm and then put it back again. There was no apparent muscle control at all, it was flaccid and dead. "I swear it moved, Luke."

"Maybe there is some residual energy in the nerves or something?" Luke offered. "It's warming up in here too. Bloody maintenance still haven't fixed the ventilation. What is the temperature showing in here now?" Luke asked Walt and the assistant medic went over and checked the thermometer on the wall.

"It's 25.8 degrees."

"It's probably causing the muscle tissues and tendons to expand as they warm through beneath the solid surface of the scales it might have looked like it was moving," Luke commented.

"Maybe," Walt wasn't entirely sure, but Luke was trying to find an explanation for the subject. He guessed there were always possibilities that the nerves and muscles would twitch with residual charges and if the core temperature was changing then that could have an effect as well. Luke was right that it was dead. It was just so freaky looking. It was one of the reasons why it should have been cooler in the autopsy room so that the subject did not heat up from the refrigerated temperature too quickly.

"It is dead," Luke commented and rapped his knuckles on the scales of his chest.

"Yeah, I know that," Walt grumbled feeling a bit like an idiot.

"So, should we get on?" Luke asked and Walt nodded. "I am going to try a stronger blade." He put the scalpel down and picked up a more substantial knife that was used for breaking into joints. It could cut through cartilage and it could score bone so it should go through the membranes between the scales. It was a single step down from the various bone saws they had so he hoped it worked.

"Have you got the camera running?" Luke checked with Walt.

"Yes, ready to go again."

"Well, sorry for that folks," Luke commented for the camera. "We're going to continue with this now that Walt is no longer spooked out," Luke teased on the film.

"Funny."

"I'm going to try to slide the blade between the scales and access an undamaged aspect of the creature's head. It is so far impervious to the scalpel," Luke advised. "Whatever it is, it is a tough organism." He advised. He used the pointed blade of the bone knife and used both hands to force the blade down between the scales. There was a sudden dip of the knife.

"Got it!" Luke exclaimed, but as soon as he said it there was a shrill shriek that seemed to be at the very upper limit of the human hearing. It was so high pitched it hurt Walt's ears. He gaped jerking back away from the bench and almost dropping the camera on the floor as blood spurted up from the bench and coated his visor. There was a thick bit of creamy jelly on the Perspex of his visor. Luke must have got through the scale because it looked remarkably like brain tissues.

"Oh! That's gross!" Walt exclaimed after holding his breath for a moment. His entire vision was obscured by the red splatters right across the face shield. He was very grateful for the protection because he'd not have wanted that on his skin. "Thanks for aiming it this way!"

Walt fumbled for a piece of cloth so that he could clear his visor. He wiped it and smeared it over expecting to see Luke laughing at the mess that had been made, but Walt staggered back in horror, dropping the camera on the floor. "Oh God, no?" It was Luke's blood. "Fuck!"

The appendages on the alien's arm had been stabbed up through Luke's throat and up under his chin. It had ripped his throat out completely and carotid blood had sprayed across the autopsy lab. Blood had splattered out of his nose and his mouth. The appendages were visible like rigid steel grey spikes bursting straight out of the top of Luke's skull. It was brain tissue on his visor! Luke's!

Walt gagged and staggered backward. He had only smeared the blood over the visor and he couldn't see properly. In some kind of perverted sickness Luke was still holding the knife and was totally frozen. He would have been killed instantly but his expression was one of horror. He was dead.

Walt skidded on blood and brain mater that had splattered onto the floor over his side of the bench with the force of the alien's fingers ramming up and through his head. He couldn't see enough through the red smears on his visor and Walt ripped it off so he could see enough to get to the door and to escape.

He gagged and threw up as he slid on the floor toward the doors. He ran even though he was vomiting. "Help us?" He skidded toward the door. "Bloody help us!" Walt screamed as he was hit in the back and knocked down to the ground by the heavy weight of Luke's body. It had been thrown at him, tossed to take him down, as if it weighed nothing. He screamed as he hit the floor and was pinned down by his colleague and friend's bloodied body with his head and face ripped open by the alien's bare hand landed on top of him.

The alien was on all fours in front of him in a flash. It dragged Walt up with a hand on the top of his head. The three solid fingers curled around him and dug into the back of his scalp lifting him within its grip with ease.

"No? Please?" Walt pleaded. He immediately vomited blood as the alien punched his other arm right through his middle. It rammed in through his guts and came out ripping his spine through a mass whole in his rear. The protective rubber of their autopsy suits provided no resistance, nor did flesh or bone.

Walt was terrified but strangely it did not hurt. His legs were instantly dead as blood bubbled up into his throat and mouth. "Help… me?" The alien threw him back down to the ground. Walt dragged himself across the floor. He left a thick broad stripe of blood from his macerated abdomen. His legs were useless behind him as he ripped his fingernails off trying to grip the narrow grouted gaps between the highly inappropriate tiles on the floor. Someone would be having to try to get his blood and Luke's brains out from between the gaps now.

He knew he was going to die. The alien was out of his view and he couldn't see it. He didn't drag himself over toward the door. He wasn't going to be able to get out and if he did he'd just set the alien loose on everyone else. He managed to get toward the base of the control panel at the side of the lab, but his legs were paralysed and he was losing so much blood that he was fading out. He could not get up. His life was draining away from him in the sticky red river of blood that clung to the tiles marking his squirmed path from Luke's body.

The alien landed on top of him. It was no long on all fours but was standing upright. It dragged Walt up with him. He pushed Walt back against the control panel. Walt looked down and saw a strange bundle of wet sausages slide down out of the gaping hole in the front of the rubber suit he was wearing. It took him a moment to realise that they were his own intestines. The alien cocked its head as if it was studying Walt, holding him up by his throat. Walt tried to raise his hand toward the alien to free himself, but his whole body was going limp. He let his hand drop down onto the console, aiming it toward a red button at the side of the panel.

The last thing he heard beyond the shrill shriek of the alien as it slammed it's fingers through the front of his throat near decapitating him was the rising wail of sirens and a security alert. He'd managed to depress the emergency alarm. The alien flung him across the autopsy lab as if it were swatting away a weightless gnat. Walt would have been grateful that he was dead before he hit the ground on the far side of the lab and his entrails slapped down onto the slate tiles in a streak of obscene tickertape in his wake.


	20. Chapter 20

"I'm going to go and get ready to run the clinic now," Martha advised all those in the Doctor's room. "And, don't forget what I said. You need to lie there and rest quietly." She pointed at the Doctor. "And, you three need to let him." She pointed between Jack, Sarah Jane, and Wilf. "And, you need to make sure they all do." She pointed at Gerald. "I will be back for lunchtime. If you do need me urgently, Gerald, I will be based in clinic 3 this morning."

"I am sure we will all be fine, Doctor Jones," Gerald confirmed formally.

"Behave," she warned the Doctor and Jack collectively directing the comment to the pair of them with her gaze and making Wilf snigger slightly who then received an equal glare from the medic in charge. Martha left the room but as she got to the exit of the East Wing a security alert sounded and the floor to ceiling sliding doors leading from the corridor into the wing slid shut and locked automatically. It locked them all into the East Wing.

"Is that a security alert?" Gerald rushed out to see Martha checking the door and finding it locked.

"It seems like it must be," Martha confirmed. "There are no drills planned for this morning." She would normally be informed if there was going to be a drill that involved the medical unit in case there were any surgeries planned for the day. The last thing anyone would want was to be involved in a security drill if they were in the middle of operating on a patient. "I'll ring through to control."

"It's probably another fault on the system," Gerald muttered. They'd had plenty of issues with faults on the system.

"Is there a problem?" Jack came out of the Doctor's room to make sure all was okay as there was a loud three bleeped klaxon sounding right throughout the wing. "We don't need to evacuate or anything do we?"

"No, and it's just as well, we can't go anywhere at the moment," Martha commented. "We're on security shut down and we're sealed in." She patted the Perspex doors. They were unbreakable and bullet proof so unless they were unsealed they were unlikely to be going anywhere.

"A security shutdown?" Jack worried slightly, not for his own safety, but because if there was an issue the Doctor was in no fit state to be moved or have to go anywhere.

"It is automatic, I'm sure it is nothing to worry about," Martha insisted. "We've had some faults with the system. Maintenance say it is something about being unable to isolate the wiring from the adjacent buildings," Martha commented. "I am sure it is nothing, but I'm just going to ring through and check." She was about to go and use the phone when the pager in her pocket started to vibrate and to bleep. Three soldiers ran past the front of the East Wing and down toward the main hospital area.

"Maybe it is a drill?" Gerald commented. Martha checked the number on the pager. It was the main control area. She had been about to ring them anyway, but if there was a drill then she should have been told about it. Rather than use the phone in the Doctor's room she went and used one in the treatment room just across the other side of the main wing corridor. She was getting a little worried about it. Colonel Mace would not forget to tell her there was a drill planned, especially not with the Doctor on site. Her first thought was for him. He had many enemies that had advanced capabilities, if they had somehow found out that he was laid up and badly injured and was unable to defend himself then it would be an ideal time to launch an attack, and, it would be up to them to defend him.

"Control Alpha Tango," the Control room officer answered the phone when Martha rang through.

"This is Doctor Martha Jones. I have an alert sounding down here in medical please advise."

"A general alarm has been activated in medical, Ma'am," the Control room officer advised. "It is showing on the system as the satellite kitchen area."

"Satellite kitchen? That is now the autopsy lab," Martha thought out loud. "Autopsy lab one."

"Yes ma'am, and, um, we're just trying to get access to the local CCTV. There is a lot of static on the system and we are unable to raise them on the comm. or the internal phones," the Control Room officer advised.

"Are you sure it's not just a fault?"

"It's not showing on the system as a fault, ma'am. It could be a false alarm, but…" the Control Room officer gasped on the phone. "Oh my God?"

"What?!" Martha demanded. There were two officers in the main control and she heard the conversation in the background.

"They're dead," the one not on the phone advised.

"They can't be?"

"They are look! Look at the screen! They're fucking dead?!"

"What do you mean they're dead?" Martha demanded down the phone. "Who are dead?!"

"Sorry, Ma'am, um, we have a CCTV image from the room. It's not very clear, but, we have a still image, and… it's awful. There is blood everywhere, and, they're dead. They have to be?"

"What are you talking about, who is dead?" Martha was stunned.

"We need to get in touch with Colonel Mace, Ma'am."

"You need to tell me who you think is dead?"

"Doctor Wilson and Nurse Walter Hindon are logged into the autopsy lab. It must be them."

"This better not be some kind of drill?!" Martha exclaimed. That was not funny if it was part of a drill.

"No, ma'am," the controlled advised. "It's not a drill, and they're dead!"

"Calm down and tell me what else you know."

"Colonel Mace is coming through on the other line, Ma'am."

"This is ridiculous, how can they be dead?" Martha asked.

"Whatever they were autopsying is gone"

"It can't be gone. I was working on it yesterday. It is more definitely dead," Martha advised. She was at a loss of what to do and she was no damned good when she was sealed into the East Wing. "Can you stand the security alert down so I can get out of the East Wing."

"Not without releasing the seal on the autopsy lab, Ma'am."

"Who is leading the security detail?"

"Colonel Mace has assumed authority as base commander due to the nature of the autopsy subject and because the Doctor is on site."

"Have you got any footage showing the autopsy subject alive?"

"We can't see it in the room, but we've no one else going into the autopsy lab. Colonel Mace is asking for you to muster with him in clinic three so they can evacuate the pathology area and plan an intervention. He has asked for you to make your way to his location immediately with the full roll call for this morning."

"I can't attend! I'm sealed into the East Wing until you get the security seal off this door!" Martha exclaimed. "Get maintenance to come down to try to isolate and release the locks on this door. I want an engineer down here now!"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Shit!" Martha exclaimed as she put the phone down. She ran her hand over her head as she tried to think what to do, and then turned to see that Captain Jack was leaning on the door jamb to the room and was listening.

"What is going on?"

"I?" Martha wasn't even sure. She just knew her heart rate had leapt through the roof and two of her staff might be dead, and if they weren't dead then they looked dead so they needed help and she was stuck in there, and if the autopsy subject was dead then where had it gone, and if it wasn't dead? How could it be alive? She was sealed in a totally different wing of the hospital and unable to do her job because of it.

"Calm down," Jack insisted as he saw Martha's mind was flashing from one thing to another. "Think and report."

"I'm stuck in here and people are dying out there!" Martha worried and paced slightly.

"Then you have the time to think in here," Jack insisted. "What is going on?"

"I don't know. I only know what control have said and there is interference on the CCTV and they can't see it properly. It's always on the blink, everything is. A general alarm has been activated in the autopsy lab and they've got an image on the CCTV that makes them think that Luke Wilson and Walt Hindon are dead and there is no sign of the alien they were going to autopsy."

So, it has killed them?"

"It is dead, Jack," Martha insisted. "I was working on it yesterday. I started the autopsy, but I was called away when the Doctor arrived," Martha commented. "Oh my God? What if it's not dead, what if? I was the one supposed to be… I should be?"

"That is not for now," Jack advised.

"What else is there to do? I'm stuck in here!"

"Can we see what the control room is seeing?"

"No, it's not accessible through the medical systems, but," Martha thought for a moment. Then she went back into the Doctor's room. "They were going to video the autopsy. They were doing a video log of the procedure so that it was both in a live feed and a recorded format so that we could review it together," she commented and looked to the Doctor. "We were hoping that the Doctor would be well enough to offer us some insight," Martha advised Jack as she flicked the monitor on in the Doctor's bedroom. Whether she thought he was actually well enough or not now they had to see what was going on.

"What is happening?" the Doctor asked. The alarm was still sounding and though it had been reduced in volume and was now just a background series of three intermittent bleeps to remind all of them that there was an ongoing alert, but not to the point where they could not talk to each other over the alarm sirens, it was just the wrong frequency for Time Lord ears. It was a bit like torture going on in the background as it set his teeth on edge like fingernails on a blackboard.

"We're trying to determine what has happened," Martha regained her composure as she had something to try to do. "It appears that the alert may not be a drill, but there has been an incident in the autopsy lab. We're struggling to get a view of what it is at the moment and because of the security alert I'm sealed in here with you so I can't go and investigate with Colonel Mace. However, we were going to look at the autopsy through the video feed, so, if anything has happened we may be able to view it from here and possibly relay critical information to Colonel Mace if the camera is still running." Martha commented as she logged into the medical system and searched for the correct file.

"What kind of incident is it?" the Doctor asked.

"A general alarm has been sounded," Martha commented. "That is all we know for certain at the moment."

"The control room think they are both dead and that the alien they were autopsying is gone," Jack filled the Doctor in the details that he knew from Martha.

"Until I have a view of what is going on in the lab I am not going to believe they are dead," Martha offered.

"That's the file there," Jack indicated toward a live video feed. "It looks like it is still running. Do you want me to..?" he offered to Martha and she nodded and stepped aside so that Jack could access the feed. Martha felt sick to her stomach. She was in charge and she was responsible for assigning the staff into the autopsy room, if they had been killed then it was down to her and her orders. She was not sure what to expect. She half expected for Jack to pull the image up and for it to be Luke and Walt giggling with a bottle of tomato ketchup in some kind of sick practical joke. If it was then she would be the one sacking and then killing them.

"This should be it," Jack commented. It took several seconds for the image to load during which time Martha wrung her hands together and held her breath. She didn't dare look, but when the image came together it as just a snowstorm of static with no visual information coming through.

"Jack?" Martha complained.

"Sorry, that is what is coming through. The camera is still linked but there is no image being downloaded."

"What would cause that to happen?" Wilf asked.

"The most likely reason is that the camera has stopped functioning but the interface has not been terminated," the Doctor commented. He used the bed control to sit up further. "There must be a playback facility to rewind and review? You need to rewind to the last available data," the Doctor advised Jack.

"This is looking bad," Sarah Jane worried.

"They may just have dropped the camera and not realised it's no longer recording," Jack offered. He looked at the data file and found the sister document where the previous footage was being downloaded to so he could rewind back through it to see what the last images were.

"What are they autopsying down there, Martha?" the Doctor asked. He could see that she was worried and he knew from snippets of conversation that it was not of terrestrial origin, but there had been questions of information being classified and security clearances, that in the face of an alert would be negated. If they had a crisis going on and he could help then he needed to.

"It as an organism that was found in a vessel that crashed landed in the Andes," Martha commented. "It was sent here to be autopsied. I have never seen anything like it before. It is humanoid and slightly taller than the average human at about seven and a half foot. It is covered in hexagonal scales that are grey in colour but are impervious to X-ray and there is an iridescence when X-ray energy is incident on them. There are no features on it. No obvious sensory organs and no reproductive organs. It was found in a cage in the cargo area of the crashed ship and it was dead when it was found. It is definitely dead," Martha insisted though she was beginning to doubt it. It was such a strange looking organism, what if it was alive but they didn't know how to judge it to be alive. "I started the autopsy on it yesterday and I did al my visual observations. It is dead," she confirmed to herself.

"It seems that maybe it isn't dead," Jack commented as he rewound the static on the film until he got moving images through. He took it back a further five minutes before he paused it. "Are you sure you want to watch this?"

"Yes, we need to give the information to Colonel Mace if I can do nothing else from in here," Martha confirmed. She worried that Wilf and Sarah Jane were in the room as well, but she couldn't send them out now. Sarah Jane at least was not averse to dealing with hostile alien and Wilfred had tried to take a dalek out with a paint gun – a story he was fond of telling. "Play it, Jack."

"This is five minutes before the image is lost," Jack commented. They watched. The image showed Luke Wilson using a scalpel to try to get between the scales on the alien's head. For some reason the video wasn't giving a very clear image of the alien on the bench. It was glowing and glistening and it was out of focus. It was visible, but it shimmered, it looked transparent and opaque at the same time, and it just didn't look or feel right. Martha was almost reminded of the Doctor when he'd first demonstrated the perception filter to her. Could it have a perception filter of its own? But she had no problem seeing it when she was looking at it, it just wasn't clear on the video.

"What is wrong with the image?"

"It's not the image," the Doctor commented. "I think it is the scales reflecting incident light in such a way that the recording equipment is having difficulty rationalising it."

"Do you know what it is?" Martha asked him. "Have you ever seen an organism like it before?"

"Seen? No, not seen." The Doctor shook his head as he watched the film. The nausea was coming back before he'd even seen what was going to happen, but if he was right, then he knew the two men down there were going to bed dead. Still, they had to see it.

The camera jerked and twisted away from the line of sight toward what Dr. Wilson was doing. They got a view of the floor and then the ceiling and then back down to Walt's feet as he operated the camera. They heard Walt complain that they had seen it move, but Luke was dismissive of it. He said something about it being due to the temperature in the autopsy room. They started to work again and Luke used a bigger blade to cut down between two of the scales. As he did there was a flash of a shimmering movement and the camera was splattered in red. They couldn't see very much at all. They heard Walt complain to Luke that it was gross and that he had aimed it at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the Doctor whispered. Sarah Jane took his hand wondering what it was that he was sorry about. They got no more visual information, all they could see was the red blood on the lens, but there was audio. They heard Walt scream and then he was asking for someone to help them, and then he was gagging and begging and then the camera just went to static.

"Doctor?" Martha was stunned.

"I'm sorry, Martha, your colleagues are dead," the Doctor knew there was no alternative.

"What is that thing?"

"I'm not entirely sure at this point.

"What do you think it is?" Jack checked. "You think it is something."

"A Harlequin."

"What? Like the clown?" Wilf felt sick for those two men. That Luke Wilson had just been in there and they'd just seen him get killed hadn't they? Even if they'd not seen it directly? That was his blood that had gone all over the camera, that was what the Doctor had said sorry for. He knew it. All the wonderful things he knew and all the horrible things as well. He knew it.

"Not like the clown, Wilf." The Doctor sounded grave. "Like the ghost." He whispered with a shake of his head. "I think you've gone and got yourself a Harlequin ghost."

"And what exactly is one of them?" Martha had never heard of it and looking at Jack's expression he was none the wiser either. The Doctor's cold answer sent chills up all of their spines.

"It's death."


	21. Chapter 21

Colonel Mace was about to go into a morning conference call with Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart who had wanted an update on the autopsy. He was preparing to tell him that there had been a delay and that the autopsy was only being started proper that morning. He was sure that when he found out that the delay was due to the Doctor turning up injured and needing emergency treatment from Doctor Jones that the Brigadier would be understandable if not necessarily happy.

He knew he would have to ensure that the Brigadier was content that the autopsy was being carried out by Dr Wilson now rather than Dr Jones as he had requested, but again he was sure that would be fine under the circumstances. He had been thinking about it a lot overnight as well and he had decided that he would grant the Doctor his old level of security clearance again so he and Dr Jones could both consult providing the medic believed him well enough. Even if the Doctor had an arrogant disregard of authority he was a resource they should use providing it would not be detrimental to his recovery.

Private Loren provided him with a mug of coffee to take into the conference call, but they paused when a security alarm sounded. When it was confirmed as a security concern in the medical centre the Colonel's first thought was that their injured guest had attempted to breech the security protocols and access something he was not yet permitted to and had triggered the alert. If not the Doctor then he had learned that Captain Jack from Torchwood had remained overnight and perhaps he had done the same.

He started to head over as the alert continued to sound. The conference call would have to wait. He was heading there with the intention of dressing them both down with a strict warning to behave and respect the protocols on the base of leave. He hoped they would pay heed and not call his bluff, but he was fairly good at bluffing. He had to be.

On route to the medical unit he received reports that it was not a breach of security but that there had been a general alarm triggered in the autopsy lab. There were sketchy but rather panicked reports coming in about blood and dead medics in there. As he travelled to the medical unit in an open top jeep he mobilised a unit of base soldiers, put a call out to the base armoury to ensure there were weapons available for issue along with ammunition. He advised that the muster point would be just outside the pathology corridor in clinic three and that he wanted Doctor Jones to meet him there to liaise with the full roll call for the medical centre both of those working and any patients and visitors that were on site.

He got out the jeep and walked into the medical unit and to the muster point that he was planning. It looked like there was chaos going on and no one had taken charge and there was no sign of Doctor Jones. "Clear this area of non-essential staff," Colonel Mace instructed when he arrived and there were medics, nurses, soldier patients all trying to figure out what to do with regards the alert. The only person that seemed to be doing something sensible was Private Coates who was taking the names of everyone leaving in case they had not logged out.

"Where is Doctor Jones?" Colonel Mace needed her as a sensible point of contact and a medical liaison.

"She has been in the East Wing, Sir, if she was in there at the time of the alert then the security lock down would have sealed her in," Anita advised.

"And has anyone contacted Dr Jones and confirmed that she is caught in the East Wing and that she is secure and safe?" Colonel Mace checked. Anita looked doubtful for a moment. "Then please, go and do so and report back to me in person." Anita nodded and hurried off to do that. "Now, I believe the alarm was triggered in the autopsy lab," Colonel Mace confirmed as his unit of soldiers were starting to gather properly in line for a briefing. "Has anyone been through to observe and check the state of play in the lab?"

"Not yet, Sir," Private Coates came over with his clip board. "We were told to muster here and not to proceed into pathology without further instruction. I have attempted to raise them on the phone but there has been no answer. There is a second security door into the labs that will be sealed. I was in there yesterday to speak to Doctor Jones and she was in full protective gear, Sir. We are unsure if we are going to be able to enter."

"Understood," Colonel Mace nodded. "We will hold here, however, I want two volunteers to attend pathology for an update and to clear any non-essential personnel from the area if any remain."

"I will go, Sir," Private Coates volunteered.

"Very good."

"Me too, Sir," Private Tony Selby agreed. He was a couple of years older than Private Coates but they were friends and they lived in the same barrack hall. They could both go down and check.

"Off you go, stay on radio silence unless there an emergency broadcast is required. I want you to get a visual of events in the autopsy lab. View it from the West access point where you will be less likely to be witnessed from within. I want you to clear out all personnel from all the rooms on this spur. We all know that the medics and science teams may not respond to security alerts, so, let's get them out and beyond the hold just in case," Colonel Mace instructed. When he had reports of possible fatalities he did not want to take further chances.

"This isn't a drill, is it Ethan?" Tony asked as quietly as he jogged with his friend toward the entrance of the pathology department of the makeshift hospital wing. All the labs were fully equipped but until a couple of months ago they were the maintenance stores so there were still some strange signage up on the walls to do with fork lift safety that didn't really fit with the other signs about using fume hoods, goggles, and COSHH sheets.

"I don't this so," Ethan confirmed. "I think this is the real thing."

"Shit."

"Yeah, we'll be okay though. We've trained for this now. We just run it like it is a drill and it will be fine," Ethan assured his friend. "You check the rooms on the left, I will do the rooms on the right. There are double doors down at the end of the corridor so we won't go beyond them. When we get there we will decide how to gain access to the autopsy labs." Ethan instructed and Tony nodded happy that his younger friend had an idea on what to do. Tony had to admit that he was feeling a little bit panicky knowing that it wasn't a drill. It had never not been a drill before.

Ethan entered the firs lab on the way down the corridor. There were three scientists working in there that had not responded to the alarm at all. He supposed that because it was security alert they did not think it applied to them. "Excuse me, Sirs, the security alert is not a drill. You need to calmly stop what you are doing and leave the pathology unit through the North exit. Colonel Mace is waiting at a muster point in clinic three please report to him to keep a clear role, but you must evacuate this area immediately," Ethan instructed with a calm authority that belied his age and inexperience. He was immediately obeyed and the scientists headed towards the muster point beyond the hold that Colonel Mace was maintaining.

Tony went into a staff room and found one of the doctors was in there making a coffee. "You need to get out of here now. It's not a drill," he advised the middle aged medic. The medic was making a coffee before he went back out on external duties so he was reluctant just to leave.

"I don't think so, kid. Just give me ten and I'll be going off site anyway."

"I'm being serious. Colonel Mace has said you all have to leave and report to him on the way out. Come on, man, it's not a drill?" Tony sounded like he was pleading. Ethan was three doors down and had another five people leaving the corridor and he was worried about what was holding Tony up. He went back and checked.

"Doctor Wiener, I'm sorry to disturb your break, however there has been an incident and we are required to clear this entire corridor of personnel to ensure the safety and security of the staff and medical centre. If you could make your way calmly to Clinic 3 and report in for roll call then it will expedite the resolution to the incident. There are other coffee making facilities available, but we cannot move forward without your cooperation and there is a concern that lives are being endangered," Ethan stated boldly. Dr Wiener nodded and left. Tony just looked at Ethan wondering why he had listened to him.

"Come on, we need to keep moving," Ethan insisted. He was in control and he was gaining confidence as they cleared all the rooms along the corridor up to the double doors. Beyond the doors that were floor to ceiling Perspex there was a medical lab, a research library, and the autopsy lab. Ethan also knew that you could pass through the changing area for the autopsy lab and that led into a separate corridor that rejoined the main medical wing so you could access from medical rather than only from pathology. It was the way through brought dead bodies in. If you turned left off that corridor you ended up in the morgue and then you could get out the other side of that straight into medical beyond the hold. He needed to make sure that was all secured and sealed as well or the hold that the Colonel had placed on at the entrance to pathology was not sound.

"Right, we're clear of all non-military personnel," Private Coates lowered his voice as he stood at the double doors but close to the wall so not easily visible beyond the framework on the other side. All the doors had full panels of safety glass in them to ensure when passing through the double hinged doors that no one travelling the opposite direction unwittingly received a door in the face, but it made a stealthy approach difficult.

"What do we do now?" Tony wondered why on Earth he had volunteered to come down the corridor with Ethan and whether he could now change his mind without seeming like a coward. The way his hands were shaking he was a coward.

"Have you been beyond this door before?" Ethan asked.

"No, I'm not on baby-sitting duties," Tony pulled a face at Ethan.

"It is just as well I am isn't it? Because I have worked out all feasible routes through the medical wing, so, I now lead," he stated boldly. He knew he'd get no argument from Tony. "And, I've met the Doctor and I've talked to him. I don't care if you lot think it's baby-sitting he's cool and when he's feeling better he'll be cooler," Ethan advised.

"Fair point."

"The corridor beyond this door opens into a hub. There is a final lab and a research library on the right and then it backs onto the observation area into the autopsy lab. On the left there is a changing facility that has two exits. You can move beyond that into the morgue and back into the medical bay. I need to make sure that is secured so that if there is an alien incursion that if it were to get beyond the security seal that it will move toward the hold and not bypass it and move toward medical and the East Wing," Ethan advised.

"The morgue? Do we have to go in there?" Tony checked.

"No, I will go that way and ensure the doors are secured. You go the other way and into the lab and library are clear and then we will both bear round to the left to the observation area. You need to keep down," Ethan instructed as he hunkered down. "The autopsy lab has viewing panels right around it. They are waist height so from this point forward and while in view of the autopsy lab you stay down and quiet." Ethan ducked down onto his hands and knees and indicated for Tony to do the same. When he pushed the door open a little he saw straight away that there was blood on the inside of the autopsy room window. Ethan drew his side arm out and checked it was loaded and the safety was off and Tony did the same.

"Keep down and quiet now, the autopsy lab is security glass so it won't be able to get through it, but we don't want it to see and hear us if we can avoid it," Ethan reminded his older colleague. "Oh, and the glass is bullet proof so don't waste your ammo if you do see it. Knowing you're luck the bullet will bounce off and hit you in the foot." Ethan grinned at Tony who had spent several times in the other side of the medical wing already if not on baby-sitting duties being baby-sitted. "As long as the lab remains sealed it is secure," Ethan assured himself as much as Tony as he took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

"I guess," Tony nodded and swallowed an involuntary shiver back down. "If you smell something weird it's probably just me shitting my pants," Tony whispered. "Do they really think the medics are dead?"

"It looks that way. We can't go in if the alien is there. Even if they are alive we can't take the risk of releasing the alien. We just observe and then report back," Ethan insisted. He pushed the door open wider and slid through remaining down and out of general view from the autopsy room ahead. Tony followed. They moved quickly and silently, Ethan directed Tony with a sharp point of his fingers and Tony went to the right into the lab and library. Once in there he could stand back up and he made sure that there were no personnel still in there. If there were then he'd have to get them to crawl back out and then leg it back down to the hold. There was no one there.

Ethan remained on his knees as he moved past the autopsy lab and into the changing area where he had stood and communicated with Doctor Jones about the Code 9 only the previous morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. He hoped that what he was doing and the control he was taking would meet with the Doctor's approval. He didn't want to let the Doctor down and he didn't want to let that alien thing out if it was a risk to the Time Lord while he was injured. Once he was past the changing area he could stand back up because he was out of view from the autopsy room. He went into the morgue. He'd never been in there before but he had studied the plans for medical when Colonel Mace had assigned him there that morning. He knew every exit and entry point and every route through in case he had to get the Doctor out of there for any reason. He didn't know what he expected of a morgue, but it was just like any other room and not as scary as he imagined. There was a wall of metal doors all around two foot square and he guessed that was where the bodies were. There was one like that in the autopsy room as well. He didn't know if there were any bodies in the morgue at the moment, they'd not lost anyone for a while.

At the back of the morgue there was a heavy steel door. It had a push bar on the morgue side and a combination lock on the other side. No one on the other side would move through because of the hold. He put a pin through the push-bar that meant that it could not be activated and the door was secure. Only someone with the combination code could get through it now and the alien would not have that. He thought that maybe he should ask Doctor Jones what it was in case they did have to get through that way, but for now the alien would not be able to pass back the other way easily, so he had done his job. He went to the other side of the morgue and he pulled the door shut and then locked it, before getting back on his knees and sliding around back to where Tony was waiting for him having secured the lab and the library.

"We're the only ones down here," Tony whispered and Ethan nodded his understanding. It felt like they were the only ones down there as well. They felt totally isolated on the wrong side of a hold with the task of determining if a dead alien had come back to life and killed two medics. Ethan had heard someone talking about a bloodbath. He pointed in the direction that he and Tony had to take and then crawled in the lead.

"Everything is secure," Ethan whispered repeating to himself what he knew and hoping that it put Tony at ease. He could hear his friend breathing, he was sure that his own breathing wasn't exactly calm and quiet, but Tony was definitely scared. "The observation point is just by the North wall." He edged forward.

When they got to the viewing area they knelt up to peer in over the ledge. Unlike the rest of the autopsy lab where there was plate glass the viewing area was a one way glass so that they could look in without being easily seen. It was not usually used for stealthy observation, but so that autopsies could be observed for clinical reasons without the observation being intrusive to the medic carrying out the autopsy. There was nothing worse than working and being able to see the person watching over the shoulder, especially when it was often a group of junior medics or young soldiers who were liable to faint and be incredibly off putting.

Ethan's heart as hammering in his head and he was sure he was as scared as Tony was, but they had to report back to Colonel Mace. As he peered in Ethan felt sick. There was blood splattered all over the room. There was some on the window and there was some down on the ground close to the viewing area. Right down at the wall where they were Ethan could see Walt. He was dead. His throat was gone and his stomach was ripped open and his guts were stretched right across the lab.

"Oh my God?" Tony ducked back down away and vomited. He scrambled back and knocked a trolley that tipped. It jolted and hit the concrete floor loudly. Ethan saw a movement in the room. It was the alien. It was still in here! It t was standing at the back of the room, but it looked like it was doing something the other way, but then it moved toward the noise Tony had made without turning around.

"It can't get out," Ethan assured Tony as he watched the alien moving. It moved in quite a jerky fashion. It was heading toward them. It came right up to the glass. Ethan's breath clouded the glass that was mirrored from the other side. The alien would be seeing itself and not them.

"Fuck!" Tony panicked when they got a close up view of the alien standing in front of them. He couldn't stand it. He didn't know how Ethan could be just kneeling there looking at it and holding his breath like that. Tony dived down to the ground crying out in fear.

"It can't get through the glass. It's not going to get through, calm down, it is trapped in there." Ethan went to Tony and helped him back up, but Tony was panicking so hard he was going to throw up again. He lurched away from Ethan and beyond the area where the glass was mirrored. The alien tracked their movements. Ethan knew they had been spotted now, but it still couldn't get out. They needed to report back to Colonel Mace what they knew. Both Luke Wilson and Walt Hindon had been killed and the alien was most definitely alive and trapped in the autopsy lab.

"Come on, we should go," Ethan instructed no longer having to keep his voice down as he knew their stealthy observation had been thwarted. He didn't blame Tony for being scared. He was too. They had all been trained, but they had all been given a long talk by Colonel Mace about the way different people would react when they first came in contact with a hostile in a crisis situation. "There is no shame in being afraid. You need to choose your fear to work for you," Ethan told Tony repeating what Colonel Mace had told them.

"Arrgh!" Tony shrieked when the alien threw itself at the glass around the autopsy room. Testing it and bouncing back off it.

"It's bullet proof glass! It's not going to get through! Calm down!" Ethan grabbed Tony who was panicking so hard he could hardly breathe and was throwing up again. He was going to end up breathing in his own sick he was hyperventilating so much. Ethan crouched down to Tony but he watched what the alien was doing. It had stopped banging against the glass but was just standing in front of it. It must have realised that it couldn't get through it.

It stepped back from the glass and then rammed it. The whole section of wall flexed and shook but it was not going to break. "Get up," Ethan instructed.

"It's coming."

"It is not. It is not going to get out the lab. Now come on. We need to report to Colonel Mace urgently. If you do not get up then I will leave you here to perform my duties, so come on," Ethan instructed.

"I can't! They're dead! They're really dead? And that thing! It was looking straight at me!"

"What is it doing?" Ethan asked when he glanced back up at the autopsy security door. The alien was still standing by it, but it had raised its arm up and the three long fingers at the end of it seemed to come together into a single spike. The glass was bullet proof and unbreakable, but as the alien slammed the point of his fingers into the glass it spidered. "Fuck?" Ethan watched mesmerised as it did it again and the tip of its fingers came through the glass.

"Tony! Get up!" Ethan insisted. "Now!" He got us gun ready as the alien managed to get its fingers far enough through the security glass to grab hold of it and pull at it. That should have been impossible. They had demonstrated the security glass by standing on one side and people shooting at them! How could it be using its bare hands to get through? "We need to go! Now!" Ethan dragged Tony up and was running. They got through the double doors and Ethan paused to throw the lock and then used the butt of his gun to knock the lever off.

They heard glass breaking behind them. It was almost out of the autopsy lab. As Ethan ran along the pathology lab corridor, dragging Tony with him, he saw the remnants of the old use of the building. The labs on either side used to be maintenance stores and warehouses. There were massive steel shutters in place to divide the long corridor into fire zones in the case of fire. They should all be wired into the fire alarm system, and, he bet that maintenance hadn't shut them down. As they passed the last shutter Ethan slammed his first against a fire alarm break glass. The suppression system was primed and as the klaxon sounded it seemed deafening in the corridor but all the metal shutters all came down. If bullet proof glass was not going to stop the alien then he guessed that the steel shutters would not either, but there were four of them for it to get through. It had to buy them some time. Didn't it?

Colonel Mace was waiting at the end of the corridor with two units of soldiers ready to deal with what needed to be dealt with. He did not react when he heard the fire alarm. It could be a fault, it could be a fire, it could be the alien, it could be something else. It would need to be investigated.

Tony was the first person past the hold. As soon as he got into the muster point and what was deemed to be their initial safe area he collapsed to his knees and threw up again. He was breathing so harshly it sounded like he was sobbing and heaving and gagging all at the same time.

"Nurse, tend to him," Colonel Mace instructed. Anita went to guide him up from the floor. It served to remind the Colonel just how young the soldiers around him were and how many of them had not seen any action beyond the drills they had worked on constantly. It did not matter how realistic a drill was made to be, as soon as it was learned that it was a drill there was less urgency. Ethan Coates was the youngest of the soldiers on base. He was pale and short of breath but he stood to attention in front of him waiting to report.

"Sir!" Coates saluted him.

"Your report, Private," Colonel Mace nodded informally.

"Dr Wilson and Walt Hinden are deceased, Sir. They have been attacked in the autopsy lab. The alien is not dead, Sir, and, it has begun to break through the security glass."

"It is breaking out?"

"Yes, Sir. With its bare hands, Sir. It broke through the glass, Sir. It may be out by now and in pursuit. I activated the fire alarm in order to activate the old maintenance shutters and slow it down, Sir, but I do not believe they will stop it." Coates explained.

"It was you who set the alarm off?"

"Yes, Sir, I hit a break glass to activate the shutters. There is no fire. I believed at the time it was the right thing to do in order to slow the alien down as it is in pursuit," Coates insisted. "Now I realise the shutters block our view of the corridor."

"You did well, Private. Good thinking," Mace assured him.

"Colonel!" A solider on point at the hold waved him over. Down the corridor they heard the hollow thud of something very heavy banging into the first of the metal shutters like a deep powerful gong. It was out.

"Get Captain Price to ensure access to CCTV and pipe it down here. I want to know exactly what that thing is doing. Feed it into the clinic 3 system. This is our muster point. It does not get past that hold! Corporal Lane, take point standing I want to know who is in and out of this building in a live roll." Colonel Mace instructed and various soldiers ran off to do or arrange what he wanted. He had a whole unit of 12 soldiers positioned just inside the corridor fifteen feet from the last metal shutter. They were armed with automatic weapons and side arms.

Captain Harman was their unit leader and he was briefed as required. "It is now confirmed that the alien subject has killed two civilian medics. It has breached security lock down at the autopsy lab and by the sounds of it is working its way through the maintenance shutters. You are to invite the alien to desist and take it into custody. It is under no circumstance to move beyond the hold. If it insists on attempting to do so then you are to dissuade it from that course of action with lethal force if required."

"Understood, Sir!" Captain Harman saluted the Colonel and then hurried to take position back with his twelve person unit.

"Colonel!" Private Jarvis got his attention from within Clinic 3 and the muster point. If Captain Price had got the CCTV up and running for him already she was working well beyond her usual efficiency. "I have got Doctor Jones on direct com-link, Sir. She says she needs to talk to you immediately. Says they think they know what the alien is."

"Very good," Colonel Mace stated. He knew that Captain Harman would take care of the hold. He was an experienced field officer of several years and had commanded this unit since it was first put together. They trusted him and he trusted the Captain to make good choices. "Do not allow that creature past the hold!" Colonel Mace barked a reminder just so that he knew that the orders were clear.

"Sir!" A chorus of affirmation from anxious soldiers waiting to engage reached his ears as he ducked into the office that was quickly becoming their centre of operations in the clinic where Martha should have been seeing patients. "Clear the room." Colonel Mace didn't want everyone to listen into his conversation with the medic. He would give relevant points to them if it assisted them in containing the incursion, but he was not going to frighten them if that was what was coming. "Doctor Jones? Your report if you may," Colonel Mace picked up the phone that had been given to him. He guessed it was a direct com-link, but he would have to speak to Private Jarvis about calling a phone a phone when it was just simply a phone. A mobile one at that.

"I'm not Martha."

"Doctor," Colonel Mace acknowledged. "I believed you to have been placed on formal medical leave?"

"That was before people started dying in your autopsy lab," the Doctor countered.

"Quite. I was advised that you may know what it is that has killed the medics?"

"I am not 100% certain. I have only seen some shaky video footage. Martha has described the subject to me. Captain Jack is attempting to gain further footage from the autopsy lab, but the organism is not showing with any visual clarity. This however, further supports my current theory, as the organism is characterised not by the information that it presents to sensors but the lack of it and the presence of a sensor ghost rather than an object for view. From what I have seen and from what has been described my Martha I believe you have got hold of what is commonly called a Harlequin Ghost."

"I don't recall a file on them?"

"No, you won't," the Doctor commented. "I believe this would be the first encountered by the human race. Like I said, I am not 100%, but I am quite sure that is what you are attempting to deal with here, and, unfortunately that is not good news. It really is very bad news and forget any additional suitcases of bad, this time we are going for whole shipping container loads o bad, and bigger than your average shipping container too, I'm talking about Ood operations sized shipping…"

"Doctor," Martha put her hand on his shoulder. "You're rambling. Just tell Colonel Mace what he needs to know."

"Yes, Sorry," the Doctor accepted the interruption. He was surprised the Colonel had not told him to shut up. "I am on medications," he offered as he tried to get his focus back onto the Harlequin Ghost and back away from the Ood Sphere and Donna, and oh… Donna? The Doctor-Donna, and oh my God? Wilfred? Wilfred was standing right beside him and there was a Harlequin Ghost in the building. Didn't they know what that meant? Of course they didn't know what that meant. He was the one supposed to be telling them what that meant, and with a Harlequin Ghost and their pathetic security doors they were not going to stop it and… the cowboys?

Of all the blood times for them to get a horse out? And they were riding for real. It was a full proper stallion and when balanced with the Harlequin Ghost and Donna and Wilfred and a drugged clouding of focus? It was his leg reminding him just why he was in UNIT. He was not working for them. He was not their scientific advisor, he was not the hero who was going to save the day, he was the fallen, injured, cripple who'd not even be able to stand up in the face of certain death!

"Easy, and relax, breathe through your nose," Martha took the phone back off the Doctor. She had seen him do it. His mind had wandered and he'd been thinking about something he didn't want to think about. Probably about an alien he had described as being death walking around the building. He'd tensed and tried to move and that had triggered the pain off in his leg again that caused him to grimace and to gasp. Wilf and Sarah Jane moved in to help try to calm him down as Jack continued to work on the computer interface to try and get more information than was permitted. Their security was fairly easy to breech from Torchwood, but attempting to get through their internal firewalls while there was a security breech was near impossible.

"Doctor? We do have limited time here." Colonel Mace was trying to be patient, but there was plenty of hollow banging on metal down the corridor and he knew that the alien was soon going to be facing the unit of young soldiers. If the Time Lord could give him any pertinent information then he had to. At least he'd not just screamed at him not to engage with it.

"Apologies, Sir, the Doctor is momentarily unavailable due to the nerve pain he is experiencing," Martha advised. "I have discussed the nature of the Harlequin Ghost and while it is not confirmed, I believe the Doctor is fairly certain and the room for an error is minimal. According to the Doctor the Harlequin Ghost is an organism that was designed and created in a different galaxy by a highly superior warrior race."

"That does not sound promising."

"No, Sir, it is not. The Harlequin Ghost is a living weapon. It is genetically engineered and biologically designed to invade and to kill. It is impervious to most weapons; certainly any that are currently available on Earth. The scales covering the body of the Harlequin are impervious to projectile weapon's fire. However, in discussion with the Doctor I advised him that there subject has a head wound and that a scale is in fact broken and missing. He believes that if you were able to shoot the creature directly in the wound that you may be able to slow it down. He does not know if it will kill it. It does not have a brain in the same sense as normal structures. Each of the scales is filled with sensor cells that enable it to interpret the environment in a 360 degree circle. It does not see as we do. It will be able to see you even if you are not in plain line of sight as it will detect body heat and biological electrical impulses. The Doctor says that it is telepathic and that when attacking it is known to send a broadcast flare of shrill telepathic sound to disrupt and disturb its enemy. It has been designed as a weapon and the perfect killing machine. It is not detectable on contemporary scans and not susceptible to contemporary weapons. The Doctor says that all it will do is kill."

"So, how do we stop it?" the Colonel did not want to hear all of that from Martha. He wanted a nice and easy stand down, not a killing machine from across the galaxy. He was hoping that perhaps it was a bit disorientated and perturbed about waking from some kind of head injury in the middle of its own autopsy. That it had acted out in self-defence and now they would all be very sorry about the confusion, not that they had an organic weapon that they couldn't shoot behind their defences and in the heart of their base.

"The Doctor said to shoot it in the head wound and you might be able to slow it down. It is not designed to actually be stopped. It does not have pain receptors in it's biological design. It will not stop and retreat if it is hurt. It will only stop if it is put down. Hit it enough times in the head wound and it might do it. The Doctor says that they only have a short life span of up to around five Earth days. Whole pods of them are delivered onto a planet for invasion and they go off killing the inhabitants. Then in five days or so they all die and the following invasion force goes down and clears up the dead."

"Something stopped it," the Colonel stated. "Something stopped it because it was in that crash and you believed it to be dead."

"I was obviously mistaken. I am sorry, Sir, I don't know how I could make such a mistake and I have nothing else to tell you on that matter at the moment. I believed it to be deceased. There were no outward signs of life. Hopefully once it has been contained and it is deceased we will be able to determine how I could be so mistaken, but in the meantime I do not know," Martha advised gravely.

"Can the Doctor answer that?" the Colonel checked.

"Unfortunately the Doctor has passed out due to the pain in his leg injury, Sir," Martha commented. "I will attempt to seek further information once he has regained consciousness."

"He has passed out?"

"Yes, Sir, unfortunately he is finding it hard to relax during current conditions and when he does not relax the pain becomes too severe for his systems to handle. I am sure that he will do what he can to provide assistance in the intervening periods, however, he remains seriously injured."

"Understood." Colonel Mace wanted to say not to utilise the Doctor's expertise at all, but he doubted that they were going to get through without it, and, he doubted the Doctor would accept that. "What is your status down there?" Colonel Mace asked knowing that they were not far from the seat of action when action came as it seemed it must.

"Captain Jack is attempting to gain access to CCTV and additional footage from the autopsy room but is having difficulty accessing the systems."

"Have Captain Price provide full access to the East Wing," Colonel Mace advised someone off screen.

"Thank you, Sir," Martha acknowledged knowing that it would not sit too well with the Colonel to be releasing full access to Torchwood. "We have a maintenance issue with the security door at the entrance to the East Wing. It is not responding to my override codes and control are unable to override remotely without shutting all security systems off. I have currently got a maintenance operative attempting to isolate the security block on this door so I can leave and tend to any wounded should they arrive," Martha commented. "I have three civilians currently on site in the East Wing, Sir, including Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood as you know. I believe under the circumstances that he might be given clearance to assist?"

"Kit him out," Colonel Mace agreed. "And, as soon as the door is opened I want the other civilians escorted off base."

"Yes, Sir," Martha agreed already knowing that as going to be harder said than done.

"What evacuation plans do you have for all current patients?"

"The Doctor is our only current inpatient, Sir. Morning clinics were due to start, however, all patients have been required to leave. It should only be the Doctor on site, Sir."

"And the Doctor can be moved if necessary?"

"His leg injury remains unstable within the split cast, but, if it became necessary, then yes," Martha confirmed. She looked to where the Doctor was moaning wordlessly as he was starting to come back round with Sarah Jane and Wilfred in kindly attendance at his bedside. "It is only his leg at risk. He could be moved urgently if we had to," Martha assured the Colonel. She did not want to think about the pain it might cause him and the additional damage to his leg that could occur if they lost the reductions again, but, if they had to drag him out the way in a hurry then they would be able to. If they had to evacuate through the rear of the East Wing then they would have to drag him as that entrance had steps and his bed would not get down them. The East Wing was the furthest point in the medical wing anyway, it was hardly likely to get to them and reach their position, was it?


	22. Chapter 22

Captain Harman coordinated his unit so that the twelve men and women formed a three rows of for men in a blockade just inside the front end of the corridor. The technicians had quickly removed the double doors at the end of the corridor. With the speed at which the Harlequin was moving through the shutters the unsecured ply and glass doors were going to do nothing to hinder it but they were a hindrance to fluid movement for the team.

A desk had been dragged out of the first lab. It was a thick wooden one and it had been turned on its side with the desk top facing down the corridor in the direction that Harlequin was approaching. The two discarded doors had been put across them to make it thicker and more solid. Behind the table the first four solders crouched down, their guns resting across the top of them. Captain Harman was positioned in the first line behind that and had his weapon ready. They could all hear each other's nervous breathing and only hoped they did not sound as scared as their neighbour did.

"This is it," Captain Harman announced as they heard the Harlequin bang into the last shutter between them and it. It hit it with such force that bits of plaster rained down from the ceiling where the whole mechanism moved on the bolts. The banging on the metal was rapid, but from what they had heard it had taken it less than a minute to get through each of the shutters.

"Message from Doctor Jones!" Private Coates advised. "When you engage. Shoot for the existing wound on its head. The bullets won't penetrate except for the wound on its head!"

"Thank you, Private, now fall back!" Captain Harman instructed the young Private who was not a part of his unit and as far as he was concerned far too young to be engaging with an extra-terrestrial hostile. "You hear that, men, if the order to open fire is given concentrate your fire on the head wound."

"Yes Sir," a chorus of nervous affirmation rung out.

"Easy," Harman warned calmly as the shutter in front of them began to rip open as it buckled more and more with each hit. "Hold your fire until I give the order."

The metal of the shutter buckled and three steel spikes burst through it. They looked like metal rods that the Harlequin had armed itself with until they curled down over the ragged pierced metal and pulled the metal away from the hole, tearing it through like it was stiffened paper not corrugated steel sheeting.

"Unidentified hostile. You will stand down," Harman instructed. There was no hint of delay from the Harlequin as it pulled the gaping wound in the shutter wider from the other side. It then seemed to stand at the shutter for a moment. Its head was out of view but its entire body was covered in sensory organs, it did not have to 'look' to be able to see through and beyond the shutter. It could feel and sense the unit just in front of it. It seemed to disappear from view and grew silent.

"Where did it go? Has it gone?" One of the crouched soldiers behind the upturned desk asked.

"Maybe it saw us and retreated?" another suggested.

"Maintain your position and stay alert," Harman warned. He did not think it had gone at all.

In a flash of movement the Harlequin leapt through the hole in the shutter, streamlining itself as it passed easily through the tear and then landed comfortable on all fours, but not on the floor. It was inverted on the ceiling. It changed all of their expectations as they all had their weapons trained ahead of them but not the Harlequin was above them. It caused disconcertion as they shifted their aim as it stuck to the ceiling on all fours like some kind of massive scaled humanoid lizard.

"Stand down! You will desist your approach or you will be fired upon!" Harman warned the Harlequin. "This is your final warning. Desist or you will be stopped by…."

The Harlequin dropped down from the position that it was in directly onto Harman. As it used the appendages on one of its arm to pierce his skull he used identical appendages that appeared on the end of its leg to score down his body from sternum to groin. He split him wide open, splattering blood onto the soldiers who now had the alien directly within their hold rather than ahead or even above them. It was behind the initial line, a part of the second, and ahead of the third. There was no direction for them as the Harlequin had immediately taken out their commander.

They opened fire on the Harlequin. Bullets hit the scales and bounced off. Three of the men fell in a heap from ricochet. All of the coordination and planning was lost as the Harlequin ripped the unit to shreds in seconds. The men screamed in horror and in pain s they were devastated in seconds.

In the Muster point Colonel Mace still had no visual of the events that were happening in the corridor down at the hold, but he could hear the screams and the gun fire.

"The hold is breeched! The hold is…" One of the soldier's broke the line and ran in an attempt to raise the alarm to those in the muster point and the second unit of men prepared to move in and secure a second and then a third hold if necessary before they had back tracked far enough for them to reach clinic three and the current muster point. The Harlequin cut him off, leaping onto his back and driving him to the floor with such a force that the tiles caved his face in.

"Sir, hold one is down," Private Coates reported back to the Colonel.

"Control!" Colonel Mace got on his radio to control. "I need all active Greyhound units to converge on the medical unit immediately. All standby units to for a perimeter around this building!" He instructed. He looked around him at the men he had available. They were boys! All over again they were just boys! "You, Private!"

"Yes, Sir!" Private Coates saluted him. He stood tall despite the fear in his eyes as he had tasked himself to ensure that information made it from the direct line to the muster point while they had no communication processes in place yet.

"Make your way to the East Wing, Private."

"Sir?" Private Coates was surprised by the order. He had thought he was going to be given something critical to do.

"Liaise with Doctor Jones. I need a medical team made ready back there. The East Wing is self-contained. It will be our fall-back position and our medical post. I need a man with fast thinking and a level head. You have proven that to be you, Private," Colonel Mace advised. "I need you to coordinate the fall back position."

"But?" Private Coates looked at him wide eyed. Coordinating a fall-back position was a Commander's task not a junior private. He was only really an officer cadet. He wasn't even supposed to be in a live hostile situation and they wanted him to set up the fall back position. That was medical, communications, tactical, security, all of it?

"I am counting on you, Private," Colonel Mace could see the uncertainty in the young man. "You can do it. Use the resources that you have available to you there, and, keep them safe."

"The Doctor?" Coates checked and Mace nodded curtly. "Yes Sir" Coates stood to attention and then he ran back through medical and toward the East Wing.

Colonel Mace jolted when there was another round of bloodcurdling screams and gunfire. The second hold was under attach. He took a deep breath and smoothed down his uniform, checking that his weapon was correctly loaded and that the safety was off in one well practised instinctive motion. He stepped out of the muster point. 'Once more into the breach, old chap' he heard the Brigadier in his head bolster him as he had done all the years when he had been the commanding officer.

Colonel Mace stepped out into the foyer area where the building sectioned into several different areas again. Thankfully two of them were abandoned and sealed. From there the alien could get upstairs into some of the administrative areas and across a walkway into an adjacent building. It shouldn't be able to, but it was clear that their security glass and fire shutters would not stop it. A steel secure line may not either, but if it had a choice of which direction to take then perhaps it would head another way. Logic dictated that it would move down the path of least resistance. Fortunately that contained it in the same building, unfortunately it was the path leading through medical and down to the East Wing.

"Lieutenant Boyce!" Colonel Mace indicated toward a twenty nine year old man who was taking up position in their fourth hold as more troops were running in to try to contain the Harlequin. The Lieutenant went over toward him.

"Sir?!"

"Head to the East Wing. I need you to liaise with Doctor Jones, possible, with the Doctor. He is in there. If he is able then I need you to…."

"But, Sir, I am taking position with my troop here!"

"You need to see if the Doctor can figure out a way to stop it. If you don't it doesn't matter how many men we put in front of this thing. It is going to make ghosts of us! Now go!"

"Sir?" Lieutenant Boyce feared he was abandoning his unit by following the order but he had to do what the base commander said and act as a messenger boy. He was stunned and surprised when the Colonel himself moved up to replace him in the hold.

"Aim for the head wound!" Colonel Mace barked the instruction that had come to them. It had not been passed onto this new group of soldiers yet.

"It is too fast, Sir!" a soldier exclaimed as he scrambled backward from the third hold. The Colonel was about to tell him to retake his post when he saw that the entire hold had buckled. Blood marked their uniforms as they scrambled, not in an attempt to retreat but trying to find a position to reform.

"We can hardly see it, Sir!" A second soldier reiterated and Colonel Mace was reminded of what Doctor Jones had told him. That it was only seen as a sensor ghost and was designed not to be seen and that it had been obscured somewhat on the video. Perhaps that was why Captain Price was failing to get any kind of images down to them on the ground. Still, he was likely to see it fairly soon.

There were a couple of piles of vomit in the muster area. That was ever good in terms of what to expect and the morale of his troops. It amazed the colonel of the life out there in the wide universe, but why breed a beast purely to kill? An organic weapon? From the sounds of it a fairly significant and superior weapon.

"Oh fuck!" One of the soldiers in the new hold exclaimed when the body of one of their colleagues was flung at them. It was not immediately clear who it was as the body was spun and came bowling down through the air to land right on the front row of the hold. It was playing human skittles! It was not immediately clear who it was that had been thrown at them even when they came to rest on top of them. Their face was completely gone and the front of their uniform was just a gaping wound as if he had come straight off the autopsy table himself. It was a powerful tactic on behalf of the alien. The hold was knocked back by the weight of the body landing on the front row, but it splattered blood on all of them, it caused more than one of the men to shriek in shock and fear, and the line was broken before the alien had even come into view from the last corner.

"Hold your position," Colonel Mace urged as he stood alongside them. His presence gave them an immediate boost in confidence, but the Colonel feared that it was entirely false. He'd seen the alien when it had come into the centre for autopsy but then it had been in a refrigerated crate. He could see and feel the electric fear in his men and while he stood tall he shared it. He knew the man who had been thrown at them was Captain Harman, he could see the stripes on his uniform. He was a well-liked and an experienced soldier and he had been devastated like that and then used as both and emotional and a physical missile.

Young Private Gerber was slumped in front of the Colonel. He had been knocked down by the Captain's body and then when he had tried to get back up he had put his hand right into the opening in the front of the Captain's chest by accident, slipping down into the gore up to his wrist. He was panicking as a result. His focus was not on the fight or on the hold, he was staring at the bloody pulp coating his hand.

Mace was not going to write another letter and visit another household for not paying attention to what was going on around him. He grabbed Gerber by the collar and dragged him back through the line. Two soldiers not in the hold but on point grabbed Gerber and yanked him back out the way why a third moved in to take his place. Checking his gun and nodding to the Colonel. If they were going to die then they were dying in good company.

"Remember, men, aim for the head wound," Colonel Mace instructed as calmly as he could as the alien came into view ahead of them. "Fire at will!"


	23. Chapter 23

"I need to speak to Doctor Jones," Lieutenant Boyce advised when he got to the door into the East Wing. He was surprised by all the work that was going on in the area outside the East Wing. There were piles of equipment being stacked and stored up, there were medics actually getting changed in the corridor into green scrubs rather than their normal clothing, right there in the corridor. Surely there was a changing room in the wing?

Private Coates was drawing furniture and other items out of the adjacent rooms in order to build a barricade. He had several guys helping him, so that they could funnel all activity down through the centre of the barricade and then have to double back slightly to get into the East Wing. It was floor to ceiling with only the narrow path through it so it would be easy to defend and the funnelling meant that there would be a controlled exit so that people could be counted through. It was wide enough that medical gurneys could pass through it if necessary but it was not going to allow a mass exodus.

"Doctor Jones is through here," Private Coates indicated toward the East Wing door. There was a maintenance operative on a ladder working on the mechanism above the large full sized security doors. Boyce was unsure whether they were trying to seal them in or out, but he knew Doctor Jones, he was fairly sure she'd not want to remain in there when there were people hurt.

"Doctor Jones, Ma'am?" Lieutenant Boyce saluted her.

"At ease," Martha offered once she returned the salute. "What can I do for you?"

"We're taking heavy casualties," Boyce advised.

"This is the fall back point and medical triage," Private Coates advised. He had several cots ready to be moved into the East Wing common area for triage as there was not a full complement of hospital beds in there and he didn't think anyone who was injured would want to lie on the pool table.

"That is going to do little good unless we can get this door open!" Martha commented addressing the comment up at the maintenance operative on the top of the ladder.

"I'm working on it."

"Work faster," Captain Jack insisted. He was on the wrong side of the glass. There were men on the other side that were dying and he could go and help. He had put on a spare unit medical uniform that Martha had in the East Wing, so that he would not accidentally be shot as an intruder during the crisis. There was a weapon waiting for him with Private Coates for when the door opened and for once the Doctor was not protesting the use of guns. That scared Martha and Jack more than anything as he'd insisted that they aimed for the head wound and not that they tried to calm the organism down and try to imagine how it must have felt waking up on an autopsy table.

"Colonel Mace says we can't keep putting men in front of this thing without knowing how to stop it."

"We've already indicated that you need to shoot for the head wound."

"There are reports that it moves too fast and that it is hard to engage with it in order to aim for the head wound," Lieutenant Boyce advised. "It is pushing through every hold we have and slaughtering everyone. We need an alternative."

"One second it is on the ground and next it is on the ceiling or it is on all fours and then it is standing up and it jumps so far!"

"You need to calm down," Jack advised the young private that had been brought to the East Wing door in a panic. He had been sick several times and had been sat out of the way, but close enough to the door that he could be brought in and assisted when the door was open. Another reason why Martha was keen to get the door open. That young man needed someone to tell him that it was alright to be terrified and to be sick when he had seen horrible things. Private Coates had been good with him and tried to ask him to help and do some gentle moving of equipment for the barricade, but he wasn't able to do it. He was probably going to end up needing sedation.

"Colonel Mace said to liaise with the Doctor if possible?" Lieutenant Boyce insisted.

"The last time we liaised with the Doctor he ended up passing out," Jack commented not happy that they were taking things back to him when he was not fit to do so. He was not in a position to be counted on.

"I will go and ask him," Martha suggested and looked to Jack and smiled sympathetically. She knew that it was difficult. "Get this door fixed!" She then snapped at the maintenance operative. "If I've got wounded coming I need to be able to deal with them not wave at them through the window!"

Martha paused and watched as another unit of 12 soldiers was led at a run through the corridor by Captain Mann. Private Coates directed them beyond the fall back position. There wasn't anywhere else to fall back to once they all got to the East Wing.

"Doctor?" Martha went into the Doctor's room and sat on the stool beside him when Sarah Jane vacated it.

"How is it going?"

"We're being driven back." Martha didn't use the term slaughtering everyone as had been reported to her. "How can we fight it? There must be a way. It's not staying still enough for them to get a clear shot on that head wound and it is killing the men."

"That is what it does," the Doctor confirmed. "That is all it knows to do."

"We need another way to stop it."

"I…?" the Doctor rubbed the right side of his face away from the bruising. "I don't know. I mean, a Harlequin Ghost? That is like the Bogey Man, a really scary Bogey Man. The messenger of all the devils all rolled into one! How do we stop that?" the Doctor wished that his head and thinking were not so clouded with the drugs that were running into his arm. If he took them out would he be able to think more clearly, because there was something wasn't there? He hadn't even realised his thinking was being affected by the drugs as much as it was until he actually had something real to think about it and his thoughts were wisping away from him before he could latch onto any particular train. "It was found in the crash and was presumed dead?"

"Yes."

"It's quite hot in here," the Doctor commented.

"Doctor? Please try to focus? I know it is a bit on the warm side, the heating is on the blink along with everything else, but that can't be a priority."

"Exactly!" the Doctor exclaimed and then grimaced as he tensed slightly.

"Please just tell us calmly?" Martha insisted squeezing his hand as he tried to ignore the pain raging through his leg.

"It has warmed up."

"It was refrigerated."

"And you said the crash was in the Andes? At what altitude? Was it high enough up that it was cold? It must have been cold!" The Doctor grimaced again but he didn't care. "You need to cool it down."

"How? The ventilation is off."

"I can't get to the TARDIS, and, I'm not going back up to the ice vents ever again," he commented. "But, the principle would work? Do you have liquid nitrogen on site?"

"In the pathology store," Martha confirmed. "We use it to rapidly freeze tissue."

"You need to get it."

"That is all the area that is under attack," Martha worried.

"Do you have any more anywhere else on base?"

"I don't know, I will have to find out. I don't think maintenance would use it for anything."

"Bomb disposal!" Wilfred commented. "This is a military base isn't it? Do they do bomb disposal? Don't they use liquid nitrogen to freeze the mechanics during bomb disposals?" he checked with them.

"Liquid nitrogen might slow it down long enough for it to be captured and contained."

"It's got through all our security systems in seconds. How are we going to contain it?"

"They did on that spacecraft," the Doctor commented. "You need to find out how they did it. How long is it since the crash?"

"Three days."

"Then, I think we need to take into account that it has been dormant and that might increase it's life span for a short way. It depends on how long they had it as to how long you need to contain it. They managed to transport it for some reason."

"Is it an invasion force?"

"No, I don't think so," the Doctor commented. "But, see if you can find out how they transported it. Does UNIT have jurisdiction over the actual space craft as well?"

"Yes, we do," Martha confirmed.

"Find out what they know," the Doctor insisted. "Who arranged the transfer of the Harlequin Ghost to this base?"

"Sir Alistair," Martha commented and looked at the Doctor knowingly.

"Do you have his number?"

"Not on my speed dial." Martha smiled slightly but then nodded. "I can get it."

"Get it and I will ring him and find out what they know," the Doctor insisted.

"You're going to ring him?" Martha checked and the Doctor nodded.

Martha rang through to the control area that had been taken over by Captain Price. She still hadn't managed to get full visual access down to the computer systems in medical, but she had forwarded as many files of security information as she thought would be useful for them in the East Wing. Jack had got hold of some schematics and maps of the medical wing and had been measuring distances and counting doors so he knew where he was going to be working. She got Captain Price to give her the number for the Brigadier's office in Peru and she jotted it down.

"Right, are you sure you're okay to ring the Brigadier? He might be annoyed as there was supposed to be a conference call this morning. I can make the call if you would rather I talked to him?" Martha suggested.

"Nonsense, give me the phone?" the Doctor instructed. Martha worried about the Time Lord as well as he took the phone. Between the Brigadier and Wilfred she worried he might end up trying to put on too much of a brave face, especially in the face of a hostile alien threat. He must have been itching to get involved, but he simply wasn't able to. She couldn't let him be damaged by it, especially not when they were going to have an influx of wounded to deal with as well.

"The phone is ringing so it should be a direct line that Colonel Mace was going to use this morning. It is in Peru though so he may not be in the office," Martha warned the Doctor as they assumed the Brigadier would pick the phone up despite the time difference. They were lucky in a way that the conference call had been planned, so that was the number and the Brigadier would probably still be waiting. He'd not called into control wanting to know why there was a delay, but it had still been less than half an hour since the security alert went off, it just seemed so much longer stuck inside the East Wing.

"Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart," the phone was answered formally.

"Good morning, Al, it is morning there isn't it? Very early morning I should think," the Doctor was deliberately and immediately informal. "And, why are you answering the phone yourself? Don't you have a secretary in your old age for Liz to scowl at?" he teased.

"And, who might this be?"

"Oh, Sir Alistair, a change of voice and you've forgotten me already?" the Doctor asked him.

"Doctor, I might have known."

"The very same."

"Well, how are you old chap? Are you well? New voice or not, you sound tired. Is all well?" the Brigadier asked him. "And, since you're on this line I assume you're the reason for the delay in my morning conference call? You old bugger you? Don't you be baiting my base commander and chief this time round. I believe he called you an abhorrent egotist," the Brigadier laughed on the phone. "Some things do not change!"

"Apparently not," the Doctor agreed. "Isn't that a little harsh?"

"So, what pray tell me are you jolly well doing in UNIT there?"

"This alien subject that you sent to Martha to autopsy?"

"Yes, do you have an urgent. We are rather keen for some information out here. Still no signs of the blasted aliens that crashed the ship. Do you have an update?"

"You could say that," the Doctor confirmed. "How about it's not dead as an update?" the Doctor suggested. "And, it's pretty cross? In fact? It is killing people and we need to know how it was contained in the ship you found it in. Do you have that information? We need it rather urgently in an attempt to contain the subject here."

"Not dead you say? And, killing people?"

"Quite, starting with those that were autopsying it."

"That is somewhat more difficult than we anticipated. Is Doctor Jones?"

"She is here and well," the Doctor assured the Brigadier. If she was getting the Brigadier's personal interest then Martha had definitely made a positive impression. "But, we do need that information?"

"I'm digging out the report."

"Can you send it through?" the Doctor asked. "On the electronic system thingy that UNIT have here?"

"I'll do that, but, oh, here we go. I recalled something strange in the report about the grip where the creature was found. The holding pen itself was of a strange design and made of components the team here have yet to identify. Ah, according to this a sample of it was sent through with the subject. You should have access to the compound there," the Brigadier advised. "It is an alloy containing a high amount of iron."

"Iron?" the Doctor commented. It seemed innocuous. "And you said there is a sample of it here?" he checked with the Brigadier.

"Yes, it was sent along with the subject."

"I will get that tracked down. Hopefully it will give us a clue as to how to contain it," the Doctor confirmed.

"Ah, it also says here that here were metal tubes wrapped around all of the poles in the cage," the Brigadier commented. "It looked like they were connected to system of cold water and that it was pumped through."

"Okay, cold again," the Doctor advised. "It was kept dormant by reducing it's body temperature."

"It was not functioning. It was damaged in the crash," the Brigadier advised.

"It was probably knocked out in the crash. It would have taken a huge amount of force to actually cause the damage to the alien's head, especially since it is reported that one of the scales is broken. So, we'll just have to assume it got knocked out and then because it is up there in the Andes that it remained cold and then it was transported in a refrigerated trunk," the Doctor confirmed. "Now it has warmed up and woken up pretty annoyed."

"Just as well you're there old chap, makes me feel better knowing you're there to help out."

"I will do what I can," the Doctor confirmed. "Can you fire that report through to the computer here and we can look to see if there is anything else in the report."

"Keep me up to date."

"I will."

"And, put me on to Martha would you if she is still there?"

"She's hurt," the Doctor handed the phone back to her. "He wants to talk to you."

"Sir Alistair?" Martha let him know she was there on the phone.

"Sorry, it seems we forwarded you something of a problem. I have no doubts that you will solve It, but please, Doctor Jones, pray tell me, what is wrong with our mutual Time Lord friend?"

"Wrong, Sir?"

"He is not himself, and, I know all about regeneration. Seen it happen before my very eyes one time, but, something is wrong. What is it?" the Brigadier asked. Martha covered the handset for a moment and looked at the Time Lord.

"He wants to know what is wrong with you," Martha advised the Doctor. The Time Lord frowned, he thought that he'd come across pretty clear and coherently, why would anyone think something was wrong? Do you want me to tell him?"

"Never mind what he wants, Doctor Jones," the Brigadier heard the conversation despite Martha's hand over the mouthpiece. The Doctor just sighed and then shrugged. It made no difference did it really?

"The autopsy planned for yesterday was delayed because the Doctor arrived on base."

"To intervene? He said the alien was killing people? Has he been injured by it?"

"No, Sir, he was already injured when he arrived. The Doctor has broken his leg in a separate incident and arrived needing treatment that we are in the course of providing for him."

"A broken leg you say? That surely is some tough luck."

"Yes sir."

"Then don't be allowing him to run into danger, he may not be quite as quick as he thinks he is when it is time to run away again."

"No, Sir," Martha didn't elaborate. It surprised and bemused her slightly that everyone thought that breaking a leg would be of little consequence to the Doctor at all. It was as if they forgot he was flesh and blood just as much as they were and a broken leg was a big thing disregarding it being broken in several places with the associated knee and ankle dislocations.

"Keep me informed on progress in both matters and advises the Doctor that I will be back in the UK for a few weeks in a fortnight or so, all being well here. If he remains around we can share a bottle of scotch."

"He will still be around, Sir, but I'd not recommend Scotch while he remains on the pain medication he will be taking," Martha warned. She was about to end the call to the Brigadier formally as they needed to get working, even if the Doctor was now directing Jack to find out where a sample of a metal allow containing iron had been placed as it was part of the cage that had contained the alien. Martha didn't want to be rude to the Brigadier but Private Coates came running into the room. He had booked on his uniform and looked shocked and white. It took Martha a moment to realise that if Private Coates was in the room then that meant the maintenance operative had got that door open.

"Are you injured, Ethan?" the Doctor grimaced as he moved too quickly on the bed seeing the blood marking Private Coates's uniform.

"No, it's not mine. Doctor Jones? People are arriving," Private Coates advised.

"Ethan, go to the TARDIS," the Doctor instructed. "Jack, give him your key. Just inside there on far side of the deck is my coat. I need you to bring it here as soon as you can."

"Your coat?" Private Coates hardly thought that a priority.

"There is stuff in the pockets," the Doctor insisted.

"Get it." Martha knew just how much stuff the Doctor carried in his impossible pockets. If he wanted it then he had something he wanted to do and it would only be something to help. "Sonic?" Martha checked with the Time Lord as she handed Ethan her own TARDIS key.

"Amongst other things," the Doctor confirmed.

"I will be wanting that key back," Martha warned Private Coates and he nodded.

"Get through this and I reckon he might be getting one of his own," Captain Jack chuckled and winked at the young man as he stood a bit straighter.

"We will take care of the fall back point. We're going to bring the wounded inside the wing," Martha advised. "Sarah Jane will you be able to assist? Can you report to Gerald? You've worked with UNIT before, you're aware of the protocols."

"Okay," Sarah Jane confirmed that she could assist and she went to find Gerald and do what she could for the people coming in.

"What do you want me to do, doctor?" Wilf asked Martha.

"Just stay here and make sure he behaves himself." Martha indicated toward the Doctor.

"I am going to go and assist at the hold," Jack insisted. "I'll see if I can get hold of some nitrogen and the sample if I can get into the labs as well."

"Be careful?" the Doctor commented but he guessed that the Captain was just going to go and get himself killed to try to buy them some time and to get behind the hold and into the area.

"I'll be fine." Jack nodded toward the Doctor aware that the Doctor already knew his plan was to get killed, passed over, and then be free to check the labs. "Do you want me to bring the nitrogen and the sample back here if I can get it?"

"Yes, I think I can make a delivery system that will stop it in its tracks."

"I can show you another way into the pathology labs," Martha insisted. "You don't need to go through the hold to get there."

"Lead the way."


	24. Chapter 24

Colonel Mace stood to his full height, swollen with the immense sense of pride he had for his men and women who were fighting at his side He could not shake the feeling that many of them were boys and girls rather than men and women, but that did not deter them.

He had not seen the alien since it had been brought in for autopsy. It was quite something. A lot of its body was now covered in thick red blood, but he knew that the blood was not alien but human. It was dripping with the blood of his men and women and that angered him as it continued to kill indiscriminately.

"You will desist," the Colonel called the order out to the Harlequin, but it moved forward. It did not seem to move in a controlled or predictable manner. It did not take the shortest route from where it was to where it intended to go. It was ducked down onto all fours and then it was upright and then it was on the wall or the ceiling and then back to the opposite wall. Its movements were all jerked and disruptive and it meant that they could not aim clearly at it. Looking through the sights of a gun was impossible. It was there and then it was gone and there was no way to track which way it was going to go. It just disappeared out of view and then reappeared somewhere else. Like a ghost.

They opened fire. The Colonel did not discharge his weapon. He observed for a moment. The bullets were doing nothing. They were chinking off the wall and they were hitting the Harlequin's scales and then bouncing away again. When he saw a female soldier in another unit still maintaining a hold behind them go down screaming and clutching at her leg that had been hit by a ricocheting bullet he knew they had to change tactic.

"Fall back!" Colonel Mace was not going to lose any more men like this. "Concentrate your fire only on its head!" The bullets were all bouncing off the scales at unpredictable angles. The Harlequin did seem to back off and flinch as if they had hit it properly as they walked backward, not stopping their fire, but they had passed Clinic 3 now and were entering medical. Their previous Muster point had been breached.

In a sudden lurch the alien stopped its steady if jerked approach. It covered several yards in a single bound up onto the top of the Clinic 3 door and then landed down in the middle of the secondary unit. It battled people to one side as their panicked gunfire injured more than the Harlequin itself. Colonel Mace realised it was doing it deliberately. He was causing his men to kill themselves.

"Unless you have a clear shot to the head wound hold your fire!" Colonel Mace tried to get his voice heard over the din of the guns, the screams, the bodies falling, and the shrill shriek of the Harlequin that seemed to split his head from the inside. He tried to ignore it. "Cease fire!" Mace climbed up onto a desk that had been pulled out as a blockade. "Cease fire!" He stated. "Only take a shot if you have it. Clear shots to the head wound only!" He instructed.

The Harlequin tossed men aside as if they weighed nothing. Each one was injured or killed by the alien as it simply ripped through flesh and bone. There was little doubt that it was a weapon in its own right. Mace could not understand how such a creature could be created, but there it was, and it had to be stopped.

Mace took a breath and stepped out from his sheltered position behind the upturned desk where he had been waiting for a shot. There was a new unit coming in from the right. Forming up behind him. He saw that where they were that they would be able to get access to the head wound but only if the alien was drawn into their range. Mace stood in front of the alien to draw it so that the unit could fire upon it.

"Colonel!" Private Larson dived forward as the Harlequin turned on the Colonel. They caused it to divert its direct and immediate attention from the men with the guns it tended to toy with. As it headed toward the Colonel and Larson in a defensive manner the men at the side opened fire at what they believed was the back of its head though its body plan and the way it moved indicated that there was no particular orientation for the Harlequin. It could sense the environment and move behind it as well as in front of it and there was no way of knowing if it had any kind of concept of forward or backward in its own perception of the world around it.

The shriek from the Harlequin seemed to rattle their eardrums as it smashed through the Colonel and then leapt on Larson. It swiped them both to the side, but it was subjected to the gun fire from the unit of soldiers. The Harlequin seemed to stagger and then it bolted back up toward the autopsy lab. Colonel Mace grabbed at a small bit of scale that had exploded off the Harlequin's head. They had not killed it, but they had wounded it further and it had field. The unit of soldiers pursued it back toward the autopsy lab, trying to find out where it had gone, and checking each of the opened side labs, hoping it had gone off somewhere to die.

Martha grabbed her emergency medical kit and then headed with Jack and four soldiers away from the barricade and into the field of battle. The field of battle that was her hospital! She had other medics with her, but they could no longer hear any gun fire. That was a positive thing wasn't it? Martha had been planning on showing Jack the alternative way into the pathology labs to look for the liquid nitrogen and the cage sample, but she was greeted by a horrible sight and one of the first people she recognised was the Colonel.

"I'll get through the hold," Jack confirmed he knew that Martha had other priorities now that could not wait.

"Colonel!" Martha skidded down on her knees beside the base commander. He was slumped against the base of a concrete pillar in the middle of the corridor. It had health and safety posters on it, but all of them had bullet holes in them and the pillar above and below had several holes chinked out of the grey concrete beneath the white washed paint. It was clear the Colonel was hurt. There was blood beginning to pool on the floor and his hands were clamped over his hip. Martha dropped her kit on the floor beside him and yanked it open.

"See to the men, first, Doctor," the Colonel commented quietly.

"The men need a base commander who is not about to bleed to death on them," Martha advised. "Where is the Harlequin Ghost?"

"It bolted," the Colonel gave Martha the bit of scale that had been shot off. "A thousand bullets must have hit that thing." He sighed and then winced. "That is the only damage."

"Captain Jack is getting some things for the Doctor. He thinks we can stop it with liquid nitrogen. If it has gone off wounded then we might have a chance to get all the wounded into the East Wing."

"What about the quarantine?"

"It is fine. We are way beyond that and the Doctor will understand," Martha offered. "Hopefully we can get everyone in there and then secure it." She advised as she got her scissors out of her kit and started to cut the Colonel's uniform. He was trying very hard not to holler, but when Martha pulled the fabric away he could not contain it any longer and he yelled. "I'm sorry, Sir." Martha looked at the ugly wound that had been inflicted on him. It was hard to believe there had been no reports of the Harlequin arming itself. It had done all this damage with its bare hands and feet, hitting and kicking.

"Just a flesh wound," the Colonel commented.

"I'm sorry, Sir." Martha could see it was not just a flesh wound, but he was not critical. She got a thick pad out of her kit. Her emergency UNIT kit was different to the normal kits she might carry and there was plenty of dressings capable of dealing with the significant bleeding caused by gunshots. "Private?" Martha waved one of the younger soldiers over. "Are you injured?"

"No ma'am."

"Good, I need you to hold this in place," Martha put the pad down over the wound across the front of the Colonel's hip. She put the Private's hand on top of it and then she pressed down onto his hand to create the required level of pressure. The Colonel almost blacked out as he cried at the pressure being put through his hip. "Hold that there, Private." Martha could see the young soldier was worried that he was hurting his commander and chief. "We need to stop the bleeding until I can get a stretcher up here for him." Martha advised the Private. "That is your job now," she told him and he nodded.

There were a few walking wounded being escorted down toward the East Wing now. Gerald was down there with a team of medics and he was going to be responsible for the triage and prioritising of non-critical patients. She hoped he was going to be able to cope when she saw three soldiers being taken down there already. She got a feeling that there were going to be more critically wounded than walking wounded as the Harlequin skewed normal expectations.

"I am going to need a stretcher up here for you, Sir," Martha explained to the Colonel. "Can you straighten your leg out for me at all?" She tried to guide his leg down, but as she suspected he could not move it out of the slightly bent and slightly rotated position that it was in. She did not force it. "Forgive me, Sir," Martha reached past the Private who was holding the pressure pad on his wound and put a hand either side of his hips. She gently rocked and the Colonel screamed.

"There is no harm in holding his hand, Private," Martha suggested that the Colonel could hold the Private's other hand. "Keep very still," Martha warned the Colonel. She went into her kit to find what she needed to stabilise him properly.

"Doctor Jones?!" Anita called over from where she was trying to help a soldier who had appeared to be walking wounded but had suddenly collapsed and was now choking on blood rising up from his throat meaning he was panicking and unable to breathe. He'd gone down heavily and had probably just made everything he was dealing with worse.

"See to… him."

"You do not move, you understand me? I will be back for you," Martha insisted. She went to where Anita was trying to support the soldier, but she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. Martha ripped the soldier's uniform open and though there was no wound which was a surprise considering the way people had been wounded. He was not pumping blood out of his chest, but it was clear he was pumping blood into his chest. He had been hit with a force to smash his ribs into his lungs. What he had been doing getting up from the floor and thinking he could walk down to triage? That was the problem with soldiers, they did not know when to stay down.

"Dofft…" Blood bubbled up from the soldier's nose and mouth when he tried to say something. She could see the panic in his eyes. He couldn't draw breath and he must have been thinking he was about to die. If she didn't do something then he was.

"Richard, don't try to talk," Martha knew his first name so she used it. "You have several broken ribs and they have pierced your lung and it has filled with blood," Martha told him calmly. "I am going to relieve the pressure for you and it will make it easier for you to breathe," Martha told him as he stopped struggling and passed out.

She swabbed the side of his chest. She found the point between the bottom two ribs and pushed a sterile valve straight in. She forced it through his skin and the chest wall. Blood spurted out through it. The soldier had passed out and Martha used a metal contraption to push a tube down his throat to bypass the blood in his mouth so he did not drown on all the fluid. She got a black pen out and wrote P1 on the back of his hand. She gave an ambu-bag to Anita and got her to take over his breathing.

"Guys," Martha waved a couple of field medics with a gurney over. "Straight in and through, please," she instructed and then assisted them in getting the soldier onto the stretcher so they could carry him down into the East Wing where other medics would be waiting to pick him up. "Anita, go with, let them know he has a right side haemothorax and we needs scans to determine where the blood is coming from."

"Yes, doctor," Anita confirmed and went with him.

Martha went back to the Colonel briefly. "I'm sorry," she commented when she took his hand and wrote a P2 on the back of it. He knew that she had to do it and he also knew what it meant. He was seriously injured but that it was not deemed to be immediately life threatening in terms of the next hour or so. He also knew that a priority 2 injury was one that could be life threatening if it didn't receive urgent if not necessarily immediate attention. He also knew it was going to be a while before he was taken somewhere else because there were going to be several more P1 patients for Martha to have to deal with.

When a medic came down from the corridor and consulted Martha Colonel Mace saw that he had several single dog-tags in his hand. They had been split for the roll. Every soldier had two tags. They had been taken off the dead in order to complete the roll and determine if anyone was missing. Mace could not count how many had been shown to Martha by the medic, and the medic moved on to take them back to the fall back point to be logged. The bodies would be retrieved after the living had been dealt with. The Colonel tried to see how many there were and he shifted slightly and then cried out.

"Keep still," Martha warned him.

"How many."

"Seven," Martha informed him. "From a single unit, Sir. There are going to be more."

"That's… too many!"

"If you don't want me to be reporting to the Brigadier that we need a new base commander permanently or to have to change that P2 to a P1 and not move onto a P1 patient then you need to keep still."

"I'm… fine."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth," Martha admonished. "You are most certainly not fine. At the very least that things has cut you down to the bone and it is a jagged and messy wound and very near to your femoral artery. There is no sign of an arterial bleed but we don't know if the artery has been involved, it might be hanging on with the tiniest thread. I really do need you to keep still, because I strongly suspect that that thing hit you with a force that has broken your hip, possibly your pelvis, and maybe your femur. I am serious, Sir, I need you to stay still and allow me to deal with the men who do need life-saving treatment and have not put themselves into that category by moving around too much," Martha told the Colonel. "Is Major Starkey on the base?"

"She is not… on duty… but not off base," the Colonel advised. "With the alert… she I probably in control… monitoring."

"That is where protocols dictate you should have been," Martha reminded the Colonel. He pulled a face. Martha unclipped his radio and activated it. "Greyhound 6 to Control, are you receiving. This is Greyhound 6 to control."

"Greyhound 6, go ahead," the control contacted her directly on the radio. As she had a permanent call sign she could use it but in the urgency of the immediate and unplanned action many of the interchangeable call signs had not been given out and they had not switched into greyhound mode.

"Greyhound 1 has been injured and is unable to maintain command status," Martha advised control.

"Doctor Jones?" the Colonel frowned, but Martha didn't look at him. She felt guilty for what she was doing but she knew that it was appropriate and the best for everyone even if he didn't think it at the time. "Martha?"

"No, I'm sorry, Alan, you need to be relieved so we can properly deal with the injured. That thing is not yet contained. Do we even know where it is?" Martha asked the Colonel using his first name so that he knew she was being informal with him.

"Unit Foxtrot One is attempting to locate it. They have not yet reported back. They are on radio silence to avoid detection."

"Control to Greyhound 6," the control office came back through to Martha.

"Greyhound 6 receiving, go ahead."

"Greyhound 2 is on route to the fall back position. Requests an urgent update."

"Please respond to Greyhound 2 that I am dealing with the wounded and not available to update unless she attends clinic 3 muster."

"Received, control out."

"Go and do what you need to do, Martha, I will provide Cathy with the report," Colonel Mace offered. "And, I will sit still."

"As soon as I've got a clear view as who needs what I will be back with some pain relief for you," Martha told him. "Keep that pressure on the wound, Private."

"Yes Ma'am."

Colonel Mace rested back against the column. The Private holding the dressing wound to his hip obviously didn't know what to do and was uncomfortable about it all because he just stared off into the distance. It was hard to process everything, even for an experienced soldier as he was. He had been wounded before. He had been hurt before. This was hurt. The pain was like a fire right through his hip and side. He had advised Martha that he would remain still, but he did not think he would ever be able to move again.

He wondered if this was how the Doctor had felt when he had been slumped against the column in his TARDIS the day before, it couldn't have been. He did not have other people lying around him dead or bleeding or dying, but he also didn't have a Private holding a pad to his wound, even if the Private was not saying anything. Colonel Mace could hear him breathing and that in itself was some kind of strange comfort.

A minute or so later, he wasn't sure how long, he watched as Martha ran alongside a gurney with one of the young soldiers on it back toward the East Wing. She was performing CPR on the soldier as they moved and barking orders about artery clamps and blood matches, and to get all off duty medics called in as well as all field paramedics.

Three minutes later Martha returned with wet marks on her black uniform that were more than likely blood and a fixed expression on her face. Colonel Mace knew by looking at her that another dog tag would be added to the collection down in their fall-back position.

"Martha?" Jack came to find her to tell her that the soldiers were not letting him past into the corridor to go and find the nitrogen and the piece of cage, but when he saw her he could see she was hard pushed. "What can I do?" He could see there was plenty more to be done. He was a medic in the field as well. He could provide some help.

"Have you got the liquid nitrogen?"

"Not yet, I can't get past the detail and I don't want to push them. They're all edgy," he offered. "Some Major just arrived to take command she told me to stand down. Wants me to get back into the East Wing, so I said I'd come back and assist you."

"Come with me," Martha insisted. She took Jack's hand and led him to a door that had a combination lock on it. She punched an 8 digit code into it. She pushed the door open. "This is the way into the morgue."

"The morgue?"

"Yes, if you pass out the other side of the morgue you get into the pathology area. You need to bypass autopsy and then go through the double doors on your right. I expect it will be fairly clear where they are because that is the path the Harlequin Ghost thing took. You can get into the labs there and if they were looking at the piece of cage then it will be in lab 2. That is where they do all the inorganic stuff. If anyone questions what you're doing then you are in there on my medical authority and that trumps Major Starkey."

"Yes Ma'am," Captain Jack saluted her. There was no hint of sarcasm in the action from him as he recognised Martha's authority within the situation. "Is Mace?"

"He is wounded and out of commission, but not fatally."

"You can put him in bed next to the Doctor."

"With all the beds I am going to need I might have to," Martha commented. "Be careful Jack? This thing? It is ripping through flesh and bone with its bare hands."

"I'll be safe," Jack leant in and kissed Martha on the cheek. "Make sure you are too. No heroics, Martha. Not down this end. If that thing gets going again or comes back from where ever it is hiding out you run. These men need you down there in the East Wing to be doing your heroics as their medic," Jack advised and Martha nodded. "You run. Promise me."

"I promise," Martha assured him. "And, Jack?"

"Yes?"

"Luke and Walt?" Martha handed him an override key.

"I will check on them," Jack offered. It was fairly clear that they were going to bed dead from what they'd seen on the video, but if by any chance they were still alive they'd definitely need immediate assistance.

Jack passed through the door. He pulled I closed behind him so it was secure and then he passed into the morgue. He went through the room that he expected was going to have a few unfortunate souls inside by the end of the day. There was a door at the other end. It was locked and he used Martha's over ride key to get though. It lead into a changing room and then another short corridor along the side of the autopsy lab. He looked in and saw that Luke was definitely dead. His throat and head were basically ripped open from the inside out. He couldn't immediately see the other man, Walt, but the amount of blood on the floor was tell-tale. He saw the line of intestines trailing a path toward the other poor sod across the side of the lab. He too was definitely dead.

Jack didn't have to go into the autopsy lab to check, but for some reason he decided that he would. He used the override key to get in the far side door. There was an equipment trolley over turned in front of the door and the metal tools clattered on the tiles as he pushed the door open. There was something that he did not think was quite right in the room. He could not see what it was to begin with, but then he looked up. A grate leading into the ceiling space above the autopsy lab was open.

There was some blood on the side of the access point. He could not imagine anyone would go up there in the middle of the crisis, but they had said that the Harlequin Ghost had retreated. He wasn't sure that made sense, but, if it had, then maybe it was up there.

Jack did not climb up to check. He could do nothing if it was up there and if it was hiding in the roof space then they could sort out the liquid nitrogen and then deal with it when they were better equipped. Jack pushed on. He did not check the roof space and he did not draw any more attention to the fact he had noticed it. He did not check either Luke or Walt either, he did not have to. They were dead.

Jack went to the security door. It was bullet proofed toughened glass but it had been broken through. It had been pierced and then it was clear that it had been pulled inward by the Harlequin so that there as a gap big enough for it to get through. Jack clambered through the same way. The main pathology lab was immediately to the left and by the research library. He went into it and he found two small canisters of liquid nitrogen. He hoped that it was going to be enough. It was only really used for quickly freezing tissue samples to be stored and kept in the deep freeze. He found the heavy duty gloves used for handling it, the last thing the Doctor would want is frostbitten fingers as well as a smashed leg, in fact, he was going to do it for him when he needed it doing because if he dropped it in his lap while lying on the bed? Jack's eyes watered at the thought.

He needed to go along and into the inorganic lab in order to try to locate the sample that had been sent from the crashed space craft. He hoped that it was easily identifiable because he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for or where he was likely to find it in the lab. He passed through the first of the shutters, using the conveniently made man-size hole that had been pulled and ripped into the steel shutter. He went into the lab and was surprised by how easy it was to find the sample. It was lying on a desk ready to be analysed with a tag on it indicating its origins. 'Crashed Space Craft – Andes, link Subject 76584'. That would be it then.

Jack went back out. He thought about heading back the way he had come back past autopsy and back out through the morgue, but, if the Harlequin Ghost was hiding in the ceiling of the autopsy lab then maybe it would be able to identify the canisters he was carrying containing nitrogen. They were clearly marked. If it was aware of the situation and had a problem solving intelligence then it might know what the intended purpose was for it and then Jack knew he would be in trouble. He decided to head back the other way and up to the rear of the hold.

The security shutter ahead of him had been burst through as well. It was made of steel and it had been ripped through as if it were someone busting through a paper screen with an over dramatic 'ta-da!'. He clambered through quite easily. He passed through the second one, but before he'd right through the second one he had a gun pressed to his temple.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack advised calmly. "Doctor Martha Jones sent me to retrieve some liquid nitrogen from the pathology lab. We think it is going to be a way of actually stopping the alien. I assume that you are Unit Foxtrot One searching for it at the moment?"

"Liquid Nitrogen?"

"Yes, look, it's here," Jack went to pass it through the hole.

"Freeze!" The Soldier pressed his gun a little harder to his head.

"That is kind of exactly the point of the liquid nitrogen," Jack commented. "Look, I know you're all worried. I am too. I passed through the autopsy lab from the morgue gaining access that way because some Major Starkey wanted me to stand down and I needed to get the Nitrogen back to the fall back position in the East Wing for Greyhound 6." Jack tried to use all the language that the soldiers were used to hearing so that they knew he was being honest with them. "I believe that the alien you are looking for, the Harlequin, that is what it is called. I don't believe that information has got as far as you guys yet.

"The Harlequin has sought refuge in the roof space above the autopsy lab. The access panel is open and there is some blood around it. I don't believe anyone else will have gone up there. It may well be hiding up there and watching and waiting to make another move, so we need to hold and not risk it moving so when we've devised the weapon we need with the liquid nitrogen that we can easily deploy it in a restricted area. The roof space may well be ideal. I will have to get hold of the maintenance maps to check, but Captain Price forwarded them to the East Wing for me to view.

"So, now, what you need to do men, is pass through here to the security shield and maintain a hold there. Keep watch of the hatch in the autopsy room ceiling to make sure that it does not come back down. Do not engage it. Your weapons can not kill it that is why we are devising a new weapon with liquid nitrogen. Just monitor the area for any movement and then report back to Greyhound 2."

"Greyhound 2? You said Major Starkey is on scene? Where is Greyhound 1?"

"He has been injured."

"He drew the alien away from us so we could get the shot in that sent it running."

"Well, he did what needed to be done. You all have," Jack assured them. "Now we need to take the advantage back. We need to hold and plan ready to take back control. It surprised us. Now we have made it retreat and we have time to breathe and get back on top of this, understood?" Jack checked.

"Yes, Sir," the unit lead nodded.

"Can I put my hands down now then?" Jack checked.

"Yes Sir."

"If you're that Jack Harkness bloke we could shoot you anyway couldn't you? Is it true you don't die?"

"I don't stay dead, and, I'd not fancy being shot for several reasons. Mostly because it bloody hurts, but also because we want to maintain quiet observation of the autopsy room roof to make sure if doesn't come back down."

"Yes Sir."

"Is there anything I need to worry about this way?" Jack asked.

"We bypassed the corridor moving through the first lab," the unit lead advised.

"Okay," Jack confirmed. He made his way through the main corridor climbing through the next security shutter rather than cutting through the lab. He came across a full unit of soldiers who had near enough been ripped to shreds. The still had two dog tags each so the rescue team had not go to them yet. He pulled one of the obviously dead men to the side. He didn't check his head. His head had been smashed open into a bloody gaping mess at the front so he had no face left. He unhooked a dog tag. He laid the soldier out kindly waiting for him to be retrieved, not wanting to leave them in what just looked like a pile of flesh and bodies. He checked the pulse of the next soldier. He too was dead so he eased him out of the pile and laid him out respectfully before removing a dog tag. He took four more dog tags, lying the soldiers out flat for retrieval.

The seventh man in the pile was curled up tightly. His breath was haggard and rasping in his throat. He was coated in blood. There didn't seem to be any part of his skin that was not smeared in red. It was in his hair, making it stand up in crooked reddish spikes like some kind of sick fast drying styling gel. To Jack he looked like he was about twelve years old. He didn't think any of the cadets were supposed to have been deployed in the live units.

"Can you hear me?" Jack put his hand on the young man's shoulder but he jerked and his breath hitched further. "Are you hurt?" Jack asked but he didn't get an answer. "Private! Are you hurt?! Answer me, now that is an order, soldier," Jack tried to be forceful in order to elicit a programmed response from the soldier but he doubted he had been long enough to fall back on the name and number protocols. "Are you hurt?"

"No," the Private squeaked.

"Stand yourself up," Jack dragged him out of the pile of bodies. He staggered to stand against the wall. "Make your way out. There is a hold just beyond this corner. Make your way out there," Jack instructed firmly. "I need to check the rest of your unit for survivors," Jack insisted. "Now go on. Make your way out, son," Jack instructed firmly when he saw that the soldier was just staring at a massive hole that had been ripped into the back of one of the soldiers. He could actually see his spine in the middle of the wound.

"Don't look at them. Move out. It is okay, but you need to pull yourself together long enough to make it past the hold. Fear is a normal reaction, but do not let it control you. Let it keep you alive, now the Harlequin is down that way," Jack pointed in the direction that he had come. "So, I suggest that you make it that way," he pointed in the way that he wanted the soldier to move. "Regroup with your team at the East Wing fall back point for roll and debrief. What is your name?"

"Private Giles Booker."

"Giles," Jack offered. "Go on, report to your unit and then to medical."

"I am not hurt."

"Report to medical anyway. That is an order," Jack advised. The cadet private moved out to seek help. Jack kept an eye on him until he made it passed the door and the second hold he'd not got past before. He'd be taken care of.

Jack found another of the unit of soldiers alive. He was not so scared he was buried under bodies to try and hide, but he was too badly injured to do anything. He was unconscious but alive. Jack tried to assess his injuries. It looked to be that he'd received head and shoulder injuries. Like many of his dead peers the wound in his shoulder was caused by a bullet that had shredded the joint. Jack dragged him out to the hold.

"Freeze."

"Oh, again?" Jack waved. "Hello, I've rescued one of your colleagues here. A bit of help wouldn't go amiss? He's alive, but unconscious and we need a stretched to get him to the medics down in the East Wing," Jack instructed. He then went back and got the canisters of nitrogen and the bit of cage for analysis. He moved through the hold, several of the soldiers wondered how he had got behind them when Major Starkey had prevented him passing them and getting access to the pathology labs after them. It did not matter though. They hurried to get their colleague the medical assistance that they needed and Jack hurried down to give the Doctor what he needed to work and to report to Major Starkey that the Harlequin may have holed itself up in the ceiling above the autopsy lab.


	25. Chapter 25

Martha was getting toward the frantic stage of coordination. She still worked well but there were too many things to put in place and there had not been any pre-warning of the alert. Of course they had plenty of contingencies for base wide alerts and having to deal with a rapid influx of patients requiring a range of treatments including life-saving emergency treatments where mere minutes made the difference between someone making a full recovery in the long run, living but with life limiting issues, or not making it. She thrived on the kind of pressure that created and she put her heart and soul into every arterial bypass graft just as she did the minor stitches or cleansing of a small abrasion.

They had plenty of plans to call on, but none of them were written for them working in their makeshift hospital facilities and they certainly weren't written for working while the front line, fall-back position, and an uncontained hostile threat were all inhabiting the medical wing. None of that was factored into the base contingencies and so everything was being adapted on the run. At least she could count on her team to do the very best with what they had available and in all cases more than would be expected.

The East Wing was self-contained and capable of housing four patients in normal circumstances and had four separate rooms. One of them was occupied by the Doctor. There were three other spaces for long term patients in there, and the common room had been quickly turned into a makeshift ward. Seven cots had been put in there along with the treatment couches dragged out of neighbouring medical areas and some chairs that had been found.

Major Starkey came into the East Wing. She had been put in command as the current number 2 on the base. She had worked in UNIT for a long time, but had only taken the command position since the dalek invasion. She was brilliant at what she did, and what she did was engineering, not command and not emergency situations with hostile aliens loose in the medical wing. She felt like she had been plonked down in the middle of a crisis and she wasn't sure what to do.

A Private walking past her with a heavily bleeding wound on his arm. The wound was not checked and blood was running down underneath his uniform sleeve and dripping quite steadily from his fingers as his arm hung limply down at his side. She looked at him and the blood trail he was leaving as he didn't seem quite with it or sure where he was supposed to be going.

"What are you doing wandering around out here like that?" Major Starkey asked him. "What is your name, Private?" She demanded of him, but he just looked at her. His expression was quite glassy as he was totally focused on getting into the safe zone he just didn't know where it was. He had known where it was, but it had moved, and now he didn't know and he needed to find out.

Captain Jack came hurrying back in to deliver supplies to the Doctor and Wilfred to try and work out how to create a weapon to take down the Harlequin Ghost. He needed to report to Major Starkey about where the Harlequin Ghost had holed himself up, but when he came across her she was seemed to be trying to interrogate a young Private who looked like he had seen a ghost and was about to pass out. If they were brutally honest judging by the way he was bleeding it looked like he had more than seen the Ghost and had probably also seen some very ugly action.

"Wilfred?" Jack called him out of the Doctor's room briefly and bundled the supplies for the Time Lord into his arms. "I'll be back shortly," he advised and the older man nodded and went back in to where they were trying to keep the Doctor calm enough that he didn't cause himself so much pain he could not provide the assistance they needed.

Once he had been relieved of the items he had retrieved Jack went back to the Private rather than the Major. "Come on, Private, let's go and get you sorted out," Jack insisted. He didn't give the Private any choice in the matter as he hooked his arm through his uninjured one to lead him. He wanted to get him through to the medics before he simply collapsed. "How about we lift that other arm of yours up there a bit as well, see if we can stop all that bleeding?" Jack lifted the soldier's arm up for him. The pain sparked some life back into his eyes and he looked at Jack a little panicked. "It's okay. You're safe now. Come with me," he led the young soldier away from the Major and further into the East Wing than the initial foyer.

"Gerald!" Jack waved the doctor responsible for the triage post over. "Got one for you here. Currently making his own way under his own stream but not sure how long he's going to stay that way with the trail of blood he has left on route," Jack commented.

"Thanks Jack, can you get him onto the trolley?" Gerald asked and Jack directed him over onto a treatment gurney at the side of the room. Gerald immediately changed his gloves and then got a pair of scissors and started to cut through the sleeve on his uniform.

"Have you got any other injuries, Brendon?" Gerald asked him, knowing him because he was on the officer program and was staying in the college accommodation with him. He didn't really get an answer, just a kind of shake of the head and a grunt. Gerald revealed the wound on his arm. It was right through the centre of his bicep and had gone through the full thickness of the skin, the layer of yellow fat beneath, and right into the dark red muscle. All of which was clearly visible in the wound. Gerald checked how close it was to the brachial artery but that had not been damaged. A large vein had been and that was causing the heavy bleeding.

Gerald put a pressure dressing on. He wrapped a tight bandage around his arm and then put it all in an elevating sling, getting Brendon to lie flat. He put a drip into his other arm and got him some pain killers. He called Anita over and ensured that he was put on five minute observations not necessarily because of the injury but because he was showing the classic signs of emotional and physical shock. He didn't want him deteriorating, but he had provided the required initial aid to the injury.

The next team of medics would then take Brendon and reassess and begin treatment in a conveyor type process. He would skip over some of the less serious injuries and leap frog up the conveyor depending on priority, but he would then go to a team with more time to evaluate, scan, and decide on whether surgery was going to be needed. Gerald suspected that it would be to repair tendons and put in internal stitches, but he could not spend too much of the triage time on any one patient because the next person in might be critical. It was the only way they could cope with this initial stage.

Jack went back to check in with the intention of checking in with the Doctor and letting him know that the Harlequin Ghost was up in the roof space of the autopsy lab having been hit with a bullet that had damaged its head wound further. He was intercepted on the way back by the Major who was waiting for him. "I thought I told you to remain within the East Wing," Major Starkey accused Jack. "I am receiving reports that you went beyond the hold and into the unsecured area against orders."

"I went behind the hold on the medical authority of Medical Director Doctor Martha Jones in order to retrieve items that we believe will be integral in stopping the attack by the Harlequin Ghost," Jack advised without any formality. He would recognise the authority of UNIT to a limit, but he was not bound by them, and he certainly wasn't going to follow their orders when they were plainly idiotic.

"Get Doctor Jones here to report on the matter," Major Starkey ordered Jack. "And, to deal with this? People are bleeding all over the place."

"Are you serious?" Jack checked. "You want me to go and get Martha back here to abandon her duties in the field where she is dealing with your injured troops in order to report to you about me breeching the hold successfully and on men bleeding on the floor, when in fact, you stood there and questioned that young man without guiding him to the appropriate medical triage station where he needed to be. That young man was in shock and needed help not orders," Jack told the Major. "I am not going to tell Martha to come back here to report. If you're worried about the blood on the floor then…" Jack looked around him. He then went to the side and returned with a mop. "…here, stop standing round getting in the way and do something about it."

"Excuse me?"

"In case you have not noticed it is all hands to the deck," Jack told her. Jack looked back into the East Wing when it seemed to fall quieter than it had been with the cacophony of injured men in various stages of treatment and states of agony. There were people standing or sitting or lying watching him hand their commander and chief a mop. Major Starkey saw the same thing and was now faced with a dilemma. Should she take the mop and show she was not beneath getting her hands dirty, or, did she refuse and maintain her authority?

"Nancy?" Gerald got one of the facility staff's attention and indicated toward the Major. She was a cleaner and was dealing with spilled body fluids as quickly as she could. People just seemed to be spilling them all over the place. She had a bucket of crystals designed for dealing with body spills and she rushed over with it.

"You cannot use a yellow mop for blood," she admonished them both and took the mop away. "I will deal with this."

"Thank you, Nance," Jack commented when she took the mop away and then started to the sprinkle the crystals on the blood on the floor as far as the East Wing entrance. She was not military staff so would not go beyond the fall-back position until the alert was cleared and then she would be involved in the major clean-up as well. She was not looking forward to that, but she had worked with the police as well and had dealt with several very difficult situations following road traffic accidents, serious assaults, and murders. She had also worked on the underground for a while picking body parts up following suicides on the tracks, a bit of blood was not going to bother her, but they had to use the right coloured mops and yellow was not right. No one ever understood the importance of it all.

"May I provide you with my report now?" Jack checked with the Major. "Or, do you remain more concerned about my whereabouts?"

"You are not UNIT personnel. I have to be concerned about your whereabouts."

"It was under Colonel Mace's instruction that I have been kitted out in UNIT attire, Ma'am. I have been granted authority to act on your behalf as liaison from Torchwood in this matter," Jack confirmed. "Has Colonel Mace been brought back from the field yet?"

"No, not yet."

"That is good then," Jack commented wistfully. If he was too badly injured then he would have been rushed back. He had to be a priority two patient. "Have you received your report from him yet?"

"No, not yet."

"I thought you were going to do that as soon as you arrived on site?" Jack commented surprised that the Major had not done so. "Do you want me to escort you? I can tell you what I need to on route and then let the Colonel and Doctor Jones know about it all at the same time."

"I am not sure."

"Why not?"

"That thing is down there still."

"The Harlequin Ghost?"

"I believe that is what they are calling it," Major Starkey nodded.

"It is still down there, but it is not currently active. I believe I have discovered where it is hiding and have ordered a unit to guard the entry point for any activity," Jack advised.

"You gave orders to one of the units?"

"Yes, to Foxtrot Alpha."

"Without confirmation from UNIT?"

"It was the right order to give with the information that I had at the time and whether that order comes from UNIT or from a Torchwood Liaison or from the moon, it was the right order to give. Forgive me, Ma'am, but you do not seem to have a handle on this situation at the current time."

"What do you expect? I am an engineer and a mechanic!"

"You are the current commander and chief," Jack paid that no heed. She had to act or to surrender the position so that she could keep the situation as under control as it could be, not let it all pass her by. "You need to act it or relinquish that command to someone who can."

"I have no experience in dealing with things like this. I mean that thing is not even from Earth."

"Neither am I," Jack told her plainly and then winked at her when she looked shocked by the fact. "Neither is the Doctor."

"You're not human?"

"I am human, I was just not born on Earth. Things are not always what they seem. You just have to take things on face value right now, but you need to do something. Your men are looking up to you," Jack warned him. "If you fall apart it will not be long before they do."

"I don't know what to do," Major Starkey admitted quietly. "Like I said, I'm an engineer. If you've got a tank that needs fixing then I can do that, but I don't see any of them around."

"Actually, as an engineer you may be able to provide us more assistance than you think," Jack commented. "The Doctor is working on a way to deliver a liquid nitrogen shot to freeze the alien if it attacks again. You can get everything in order and then help with that and show your expertise to your men."

"They aren't my men, they are Colonel Mace's."

"He is out of commission, Major. They are yours and unless you start to believe that and you start to act like that then this is going to be lost." Jack warned her. "Being in command does not mean you have to do it all yourself, it means you let the experts in their field deal with the things they are dealing with or that you pick up a mop or you take a wounded soldier to a medic or you give the orders depending on what is needed. What you cannot do is stand and do nothing because those around you are all looking to you and take their confidence from your actions as much as their own."

"I have to give the orders."

"The men will do that for themselves. They will tell you what orders you need to give if you let them and you listen to them. It does not all have to come from you. It just has to be directed by you," Jack advised. "Now, you cannot assume command without first finding out what is going on so the first thing you need to do is take a report from Colonel Mace, assuming that he is able to give a report. If you do not make him your first point of contact then you will not be in full control and he will not be able to relinquish control and concentrate on being wounded. Martha said that he was not fatally wounded but he is seriously injured, that means he will be a second wave patient."

"What does that mean?"

"Patients come down to the fall-back position in all critical situations in waves. Usually three depending on how ongoing the situation is. The first wave of patients are the critically injured that need immediate treatment to preserve their lives and the dangers of moving them from the field are outweighed by their need for urgent emergency treatment. The first wave of patients also includes the walking wounded. They are the ones who can make their own way, which is why the triage is set up initially as well as all the emergency treatment so that they can be assisted and then got to sit and wait," Jack commented.

"That is what is happening in there."

"Yes, the second wave should be coming soon enough now. They are patients that are injured too severely to make their own way to the fall-back position, but they are not so seriously injured that they need immediate intervention. They can be afforded a bit more time for first aid treatment and protection in the field prior to transport back to the fall-back position where they will be given further treatment. They are usually conscious but can have some pretty nasty injuries. They are usually not going to die within the next hour if they are left, though the intention is never to leave them that long."

"How do you know all of this?"

"I have been trained as a field medic," Jack commented. "I'm not sure how badly or where the Colonel has been injured, but I know he has been communicating with Martha so he has been conscious. He has not been sent down here yet which means he is not going to be easily moved. As he is commander in chief he would be one of the first taken off the field if he could be moved. He probably has something that needs to be stabilised and then he will be moved. Because he needs time spent on him he can't be a priority over those that are going to die without the time, but, he will be the first second phase patient brought down and he will probably be dealt with by Martha. It is protocol."

"He's not been brought down yet."

"I've not seen anyone rushed through by the medics for a while, so it shouldn't be too long now," Jack commented. "The medics will have all of this under control. While you're out fixing your tanks this is what they do."

"What do I need to do now?"

"Get as much information as you can to get a full picture of what is happening across all the different points that are going on. Get a report from each station and then look at all of it together to determine what the next course of action is going to be. We are in a lull at the moment, but it is not over by a long shot. You need to make sure the resource is available to ensure you can move on when all the shit hits the fan again," Jack advised. "Who is your number 2?" Jack asked her but she looked at him a little blankly. "You should have a number 2? If you're Colonel Mace's then who is yours?"

"I am not Colonel Mace's number 2."

"No? Then why have you taken command when he is down?"

"His number 2 is on leave and out of the country."

"Do you not have a number 2 then?"

"No, like I said, I'm an engineer."

"But you carry the rank of Major?"

"Before the dalek attack I was a Corporal."

"Okay," Jack understood more fully what was going on. No one was working in their comfort zone. From Corporal to Major in four months was an impossible leap. UNIT was rebuilding and they did not have the correct personnel in the correct positions yet. The daleks had deliberately taken out all the military bases and now a single Harlequin Ghost was crippling the remnants.

"Here?" Major Starkey went to remove the red arm band from her uniform which indicated that she was the current base commander. She went to pass it to Jack. "Torchwood or not, you know what you're doing."

"No." Jack couldn't take it. "That is really not the right thing to do. It is not just about experience and knowledge. These men do not know me. They won't have any trust in me. They do know you and they know your rank and that you are their commander and chief. I will advise you as a number 2 but I cannot take command and expect the kind of response from the men that you would. They will do what I say because they have to if you give that to me, but not because they want to do it, because they have to do it. That is not the way to run right now," Jack commented.

"You're the current number 2 then?"

"Okay, good, then should we collate the information we need?" Jack prompted.

"Who do we need to go and see?" Major Starkey asked and Jack realised just how difficult it was going to be and just what Colonel Mace had been doing to keep it all together as well as he had under a single handed command.

"I will call someone over, then you tell them to pass the message that all area leads need to provide a current report to me as your number two. It is then my job to collate and pass that information back to you as you need it," Jack advised the Major. "Make sense?"

"Yes, Sir," the Major nodded.

"No, you're the number one, I'm the number two. I only carry the rank of Captain and that was kind of from the Americans," he commented without elaborating about how he had stolen it from a WWII flight commander. He didn't think that would assist with building trust.

"Ah, Private Coates, just the man!" Captain Jack called him over when he appeared in the East Wing to check they had all the provisions they needed.

"Captain?" Private Coates saluted him.

"Which of the uninjured officers will be best placed as a temporary communications and intelligence officer?"

"Sir? I can take that role. Corporal O'Neil can do the rest of the fall-back stuff now. It is all set up. Can I be the communications and intelligence officer?"

"Excellent." Jack nodded. He'd already known that he'd be good at it and want to do it. "But, what you need to do is that when not actively seeking report information that you remain with the Doctor. He trusts you, and you will need to report all information to him as well," Jack offered. "And, he will be sorting out some vital information that will be needed to be relayed quickly to command once it is established," Jack advised.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good, now, report to Major Starkey. She has a task for you."

"Ma'am?"

"Captain Harkness is my new number 2. I need you to liaise with all leads to provide a current report to him."

"Yes ma'am, right away ma'am." Private Coates saluted the Major and she returned the gesture. He then hurried off to take care of the task of gathering as much information as possible to report to Jack.

"There you go, see?" Jack commented to the Major. "You don't need to know how to carry out the order. You just need to know which orders to give and who to give them to. If we were in any other situation and an order was given to you to fix a tank then you would carry that out, but you would not necessarily expect the person giving the order to be able to do it would you?"

"No, course not, I am the engineer."

"Then the same applies now," Jack assured her. "We will get the information back from Private Coates and he will do a thorough job because he wants to impress the Doctor." Jack chuckled. "Then we are going to go through all the information he comes back with and decide collectively what the next action is seeking advice from Martha on medical, from security details if necessary, from the staff officer, and from the Doctor. All of that combines and then we will know how to proceed."

"Thank you, Captain."

"You're welcome, now, let's go and seek Colonel Mace and Martha Jones," Jack suggested and the Major agreed, but then smiled.

"Isn't it me supposed to be ordering you?" she asked Jack.

"Yes ma'am," Jack confirmed.

"Then, let's go and find Colonel Mace and Doctor Jones," Major Starkey instructed.

"Yes ma'am," Jack agreed and then laughed. "I think they should be up this way."

They passed Martha on the way to the previous muster point at clinic 3. She was rushing to the fall-back position with another soldier on a stretcher being carried by two men in soldier's uniform while Martha and two other medics worked on him in transit, not able to afford to leave him the short amount of time it would take to transfer him from one side of the medical building to the other. The soldier didn't seem to grasp the idea that Martha was attempting to hold a wad of absorbent padding into the man's gaping abdomen. She saw Jack as they passed but she could not stop to talk to him or to Major Starkey who she was surprised to see venture out of the fall-back point. Jack didn't expect her to stop when it was so clear that she was busy and she hoped she didn't lose too many patients, not those that were barely living when she got to them. She always took that harder than those that had already died before she did, that even if they were on the cusp it was her failure that she'd failed to save them. It didn't matter that the soldier on the stretcher's intestines were likely to trip him over if he did was he wanted in his shocked state and stood from the stretched, if she did not save him, she felt she failed.

As Jack and Major Starkey walked up the corridor that stretched from the East Wing to the clinic it was about a hundred yards of corridor with doors on either side of it. Many of them had been raided for supplies and beds to be taken into the East Wing. Luckily they had not been breached, but they were not in use to provide a buffer area between the muster point and the fall-back point. Until the medical building was secured they would not be using those rooms for anything but equipment. Jack was wary of the amount of blood that was on the floor of the corridor. There had been no fighting in this area so all the blood had come from the wounded being transported, or making their own way, from the seat of the battle to the East Wing. Some of it was just droplets, but in a couple of places there were heavy spots or pools of blood and that had then been walked through and spread. It seemed like an awful lot of blood. Jack knew from his own experience that blood could go a long way before death was imminent, but, it still looked like a lot as splotched the corridor.

Corporal Lane had taken a position just before the corridor opened up into Clinic 3. He had a clipboard in his hand with several lists on it. He was point standing and was making sure that their live roll was current. Private Coates was with him and they were going through some logs as Coates did the job he had volunteered for and sourced as much current information as possible. He'd run all the way to the TARDIS and back and got the Doctor his coat. He'd not even paused to look what was so important and in his pockets. If Martha had confirmed it important then he knew it was. Now he was doing the role he planned to study for and was working as an intelligence officer and he was going to do the best job possible. Maybe then Major Starkey and Captain Harkness would put a good word in for him.

Jack did not interrupt Private Coates from his duties and he stopped Major Starkey from asking him for an early report. The Private knew the urgency and the value of current information, but it had to be a full report to be of true value. "Let him get all he thinks he needs before he comes back to us," Jack advised Major Starkey quietly as they continued past, acknowledging the two men working, but not interrupting either of them.

"He might have some information already."

"Yes, I expect he does, until he has a full report you don't want to hear what he knows."

"Why not?"

"Because the information he is going to give you is going to inform the decisions that you make and you need to know as much as possible before you start to give orders," Jack advised. "Think of it in engineering terms," Jack offered. "What if at this point he knows that you need, I don't know, a pneumatic pump to a tank raised to repair it on site," Jack commented. Major Starkey didn't bother correcting him about the type of tool that she might use for that. She certainly wouldn't use a pneumatic pump, the weight of a tank would create too much of a compressive force on the pump and likely cause a blowout. "If that is the only information that you have got at this point then you'd send someone to go and get it, but, in his next investigation Private Coates may discover that there is a bridge out and the pneumatic pump is on the other side of it, or that the pneumatic pump is broken. If that is the case then you need an alternative, but if you have already committed resources to sort out the tank to accept the pneumatic pump and have committed resources to go and fetch the pneumatic pump, then you're not going to have the right resource to get on top of the issue by avoiding the pump and seeking an alternative method of fixing the tank." Jack explained. "There comes a point where you have to draw a line and say that is enough, but if you don't have the basic full picture at the start then you have to countermand orders and bring people back or give them orders that they cannot carry out and it makes you look incompetent and it makes it difficult for the men to have faith in the orders you give," Jack explained as they continued to walk along the corridor and to the Muster point. Major Starkey nodded her understanding and decided that if they got through this then she would resign her commission as a Major and return to a Corporal in the engineering team and she would recommend that Captain Jack was put on a course about using appropriate tools for the job.

The double doors at the end of the corridor and into the Muster point were pinned back to the wall. The glass in one of them was smashed and over the floor. In the other door there was a bullet hole but the glass had held around it. The doors also had some bullet holes in them so it looked like they had been closed at the time of engagement. The clinic area muster point was formed where the corridor opened out into what was normally the clinic waiting room. Now it looked like carnage. They had seats that were bolted together in sets of three but they had been tossed out the way. There were three people remaining in the area. A female officer who had a Private holding a pressure pad that had a mark of blood on it to the side of her leg. He was also holding her hand and talking to her quietly. There was an older male, a Sergeant, who had a Private sitting by him, but was holding his own pad to his shoulder. He also had his leg bandaged roughly with a heavy looking dressing underneath the bandaging over the top of his uniform. His leg was elevated up on one of the broken chairs. The third person in the area was Colonel Mace. He also had a Private acting as a buddy with him.

"Colonel," Major Starkey saluted him. The Colonel's eyes looked heavy and his complexion was porcelain white. His attempt to return the salute was neither clear nor proper. He barely lifted his hand from his lap. When he did Jack could see that his palm was covered in drying blood. There was blood between all of his fingers that remained a redder colour as it remained sticky and wet rather than the burgundy brown of that drying into the lines of his palm.

"Excuse me a moment, Private," Jack knelt down to the Colonel. He was concerned that either getting a report from him or giving him was not going to be possible. "What is your name, soldier?" He asked the private.

"Private Moore, Sir."

"Well, Private Moore, how is he doing?" He indicated toward the Colonel. "Does he seem as alert as he did when you first starting to buddy up with him? Is he as talkative?" Jack checked.

"I…?" the Private looked worried about answering the question. It was the base commander he was talking about.

"It is okay to answer," Jack assured him. "I am sure that the Colonel would rather you provided a full report than were worried about." Jack knew it had to feel awkward to be buddied with the Colonel, but it was important. "Wouldn't you, Sir?" Jack checked with him. "Colonel?"

"Report?" the Colonel asked him as if he'd only just remembered that they should be doing something and that was the first thing that came to mind. He needed to know what was happening.

"Ah, I don't think so, not at the moment," Jack offered. "All you need to know right now is that it is all under control, isn't it, Major?" Jack suggested and looked at the Major.

"Yes, Sir, I have made Captain Jack my number 2, Sir," Major Starkey commented. Jack wasn't entirely sure that she should have let him know that just now. The Colonel just looked at Jack through bleary eyes.

"Good," he acknowledged eventually and dipped his head in a shallow nod of confirmation. "UNIT… not Torchwood," he reminded Jack.

"Yes, Sir, and right now? Field medic, not Captain." Jack took the Colonel's wrist and felt for his pulse. "How are you feeling?"

"Not too good."

"Do you know how useless that is as an answer?" Jack checked. He took in the way the Colonel was sitting. He'd not been laid down by Martha which meant there was a reason why she had not want him flat, or to be moved. The Private was holding a thick dressing pad to his hip, but it was saturated and there looked to be a lot of fresh blood soaking into the Colonel's trousers and on the floor. He was still bleeding quite heavily despite the dressing.

"Major, would you mind getting me a new pad from that pack?" Jack indicated to the medic's bag that had been left in the Muster point. "As big as you can find. Two or three if they're not that big," Jack prompted. "Are you applying plenty of pressure there, Private?"

"It was hurting him too much," the Private commented and Jack sighed.

"Did Doctor Jones instruct you?"

"She had me pressing down hard. She said she thinks he might have a broken hip and pelvis, but this is pressing down onto it," the Private complained.

"To stop the bleeding," Jack confirmed.

"But he is still bleeding."

"Yes, that is because you've not been applying the required amount of pressure to stop it," Jack commented but without any accusation in his voice. "I know that sometimes it is horrible and it hurts, but it is better he is in pain than bleeding out." Major Starkey brought another pad over. "Move out the way for a moment." Jack took the dressing pad off the Colonel's hip. It was soaked through with blood so much so that it felt like he was lifting a sponge that had been fully submerged in the fluid. He tossed it to the side and it made a slapping sound as it hit the tiles and blood splattered away like some kind of crimson modern artistry. Jack could see that Martha had hacked away the cloth of the Colonel's trousers over his hip to reveal the wound that was immediately filling with blood again. It was literally pouring in a steady stream out of the wound and down the side of his thigh onto the floor. There was no pulsing which was a relief, but it was a lot of blood to be losing over any length of time.

Jack could also see why Martha suspected there was a bony injury associated with the wound. The position he was crying in with his leg rotated outward suggested his hip was not intact. There was a lot of bruising starting to show across his skin as well which he doubted Martha would have seen to begin with but was probably confirmation that his pelvis was injured too. The swelling in the tissues had expanded and were holding the wound open so that it was over an inch wide right through the middle of it. It curved down across his hip and then formed a jagged rip line through to his buttock and to the top of his leg.

"Private Moore," Jack addressed him as he opened the dressings that Major Starkey had brought over. "I want you to go to the East Wing. If you can get to Martha then you need to do so."

"Martha, Sir?"

"Medical Director Doctor Jones," Major Starkey confirmed.

"Yes Ma'am."

Jack looked at the Colonel and then took a piece of paper from the small notebook Major Starkey seemed to be clinging onto. He took a pen from her breast pocket, winking at her as he did so. He wrote on the piece of paper: 'Mace is going into hypovolemic shock due to his blood loss. Need to get him back. Now P1.5. Effective pressure not applied due to pain in injury. Team required for mobilisation query #femur and #pelvis.' Jack wrote the note and then folded it in half twice. "I want you to give this to Doctor Jones. If you can't give it to Doctor Jones then you give it to Doctor Sutherland. Is that understood?" Jack checked with the Private.

"Yes Sir."

"Good, now go, urgently," Jack advised. Private Moore ran and almost skidded over in a pool of blood. It might have gone unnoticed except that the soles of his boots squeaked noisily as he managed to catch himself. He had a quick look behind him to see if anyone had noticed. They had. He blushed and then continued on quickly but with less haste. That was what the Colonel always said to them. More speed and less haste.

"I need to stop the bleeding, Colonel," Jack asked him. "You are starting to lose too much. The body can withstand and recover from quite significant blood loss but you're starting to lose a bit much," Jack put the pad over his hip. "Major? Why don't you take his hand?" Jack prompted. "Just think of him as a tank with a broken axle," Jack commented. The Colonel laughed quietly on hearing that. He realised that Jack must have got a measure of how out of place Major Starkey was going to be within the medical wing and dealing with people in a crisis. She was excellent at what she did, but that did not mean she was good at this. He was glad she had made Jack her number two and he was glad Jack knew enough to let her give the orders even if he gave the guidance. As the Colonel laughed Jack applied the required pressure to his wound to stop the blood pooling on the floor any more. The Colonel's humour quickly evaporated as his laughter morphed into a cry.

Jack could feel the eyes of the other injured soldiers and their peer support buddies burn into him as they heard their Colonel cry out in pain under his ministrations. They didn't even know who he was. What was he doing with their base commander to hurt him like that?

"I'm sorry." Jack did not release the pressure. The Colonel's holler died down into an exhausted moan. "Colonel?" Jack looked up at him. "Colonel? Look at me a moment?" Jack instructed as the Colonel's head was starting to loll forward and his eyes were closing. "Colonel? Now that is an order. You will look at me," Jack insisted.

"Colonel Mace?" Major Starkey squeezed his hand, but the Colonel's grip had faded and his clammy fingers were limp in hers. His head fell forward on a rubber neck that he didn't save as he lost consciousness.

"Damn it, Colonel?" Jack complained. "Major, hold his head up and back to keep his airway clear. We do not want him to start struggling to breathe now he is out. He should be lying down, but if that was possible Martha would have done it. While he's still breathing we leave him as he is. If he stops breathing then we'll just have to lie him down and risk it, but for now Martha has left him like this for a reason," Jack worried.

"What reason?"

"That cut is very close to his femoral artery and the position of his leg suggests that he has a hip injury. If there is broken bone in there then when they move him it will have to be in a very controlled manner to prevent the femoral artery being affected. If he lost that then he'd bleed to death in a matter of minutes," Jack advised Major Starkey. "If his pelvis has been broken there could be risk of internal injuries as well," Jack advised. Major Starkey wasn't quite sure how to lift the Colonel's head up and back as Jack had asked her to. She didn't know where to hold him. "Put your hands either side of his head, don't go to his throat or face, and try not to cover his ears," Jack commented. He could see the Colonel's chest rise and fall so he knew he was breathing. He checked his pulse. His radial pulse was very weak and rapid, it felt like a patter rather than a pulse beneath his fingers. He reached into his neck and felt his carotid pulse. It was stronger but clearly racing. He was suffering the physical effects of his injury and Jack knew that he could rapidly decline. It was unfortunate but in the field there was sometimes a higher mortality rate in the P2 patients than in the P1 ones. Medical battles were raging in the East Wing to save the most seriously hurt soldiers, meanwhile, the Colonel was having his own battle with his injury and Jack knew they needed to do something to support him better.


	26. Chapter 26

"Is he going to die?" Major Starkey asked quietly as she continued to hold the Colonel's head back. It was surprising how heavy his head actually was. She didn't realise that heads were so heavy.

"I hope not," Captain Jack continued to monitor him. "Oxygen; that is what we need, is there any oxygen down here?" he asked her. "We need some oxygen."

"Don't worry, Jack, I've got some here."

"Martha." Jack breathed a sigh of relief as he heard her arrive behind him. She must have been able to leave the East Wing. "You got my note?"

"Yes, but no kisses?" Martha complained in good humour.

"If you were not available I asked Private Moore to give it to Gerald," Jack offered.

"And, when would that normally have stopped you?" Martha knelt down next to him to start checking out the Colonel. She had her stethoscope on and she listened to his chest and his breathing to make sure he was as stable as he could be even with the blood loss. She tried to calm everyone, including herself, down with a bit of Captain Jack baiting, but it was clear that the Colonel was becoming more urgent. It was to be expected, but she had not been able to tend to him without leaving someone else. All of the P1 patients were now either stabilised, with a competent team attempting to stabilise, or had not made it.

"He lost consciousness about three minutes ago. Adequate pressure had not been applied to halt the bleeding and the pad was saturated." Jack indicated toward the pad he'd removed from the wound. "His radial pulse is still present but it is weakened and thread, so he has lost a fair bit of blood now," Jack advised. "I didn't want to lie him down because of his injury. I assumed that is why you left him sitting and did not lie him down before leaving him?"

"Yes, I want to stabilise him before I move him, and, if he was lying down then he would have been more likely to move around too much himself," Martha commented. "I don't want to tweak his femoral artery," Martha explained. She put an oxygen mask over the Colonel's nose and mouth and tightened the elastic around his head so that it didn't come free. "Colonel, I'm going to put a canola into your arm," Martha warned him in case he could hear her. She cut up the sleeve of his shirt. He was not going to be happy that she was hacking up his uniform, but he'd be able to get another supplied well before he was fit for duty again. She'd get him in a UNIT tracksuit once he was stable so he felt comfortable and was decent, but for now she needed to gain access to his arm and she was not going to attempt to undress him, so it was her trusty scissors that did the work. She struggled to get a vein in his arm because of the blood loss, but she managed on her second attempt and got the canola in. She attached a pouch of a milky substrate. "Major, can you hold this higher than his head please."

"What is this?" Major Starkey asked as she took the pouch and followed Martha's instructions.

"Its plasma and some other bits and pieces. It's basically a non-specific blood substitute. The Colonel has a rare blood group so we'd have a short supply of what he needs anyway, but this is easier than using actual blood and it is a little more effective in the short term. It will give him a boost. His blood loss isn't that critical yet. I think the pain of his injury is also a fair reason why he's blacked out," Martha commented. "So, we're going to give him a decent shot of morphine as well. It won't alleviate the pain totally, but it will make him more comfortable until we get him properly stabilised and then can concentrate on getting him more comfortable, but morphine is a standard starting place and a powerful pain reliever and relaxant."

"So, don't listen to any of his orders," Jack commented and smiled.

"Actually, the Colonel remains remarkably clear headed when on medications," Martha offered.

"And when he drinks alcohol," Major Starkey added.

"He's not likely to be doing that for a while, nor, will he be giving orders," Martha commented. She got a wide piece of thick black elastic. It was ten inches wide, three foot long, and very strong weave and tough. "Help me with this, Jack?" Martha passed it around the Colonel. It went around his back. "We need to get it right under him if you can? It needs to be down over his hips, but try not to wriggle him at all, just ease it under him," Martha instructed. They got the wide belt around him. Martha crossed it over him at the front so it overlapped him. There were four Velcro straps and she hooked them through metal retainers and then pulled them tight to fasten them. As she pulled on them the Colonel moaned.

Jack made sure that the dressing was still in place so only just got his fingers out of the way in time as the belt held that tight too. It was a pelvic support so would apply an even pressure to hold him together when they moved him if his hip or his pelvis were broken. They bruising he had seen suggested that it was a strong possibility and if it wasn't broken then it was still going to be pretty sore.

"Right, now we can get him lying down," Martha instructed and waved two other medics in. They carefully got the colonel so he was lying flat on his back on a hard plastic spinal board ready to lift him onto a gurney and transport him into medical. He moaned as he moved him. When he was flat he turned his head slightly to the left and then to the right as he started to come round again fairly quickly as the blood flowed back to his head again.

"Alan?" Martha stopped for a moment to see if he was going to be coherent so she could make sure he knew what was happening. "Can you hear me?"

"Martha."

"Hello, just relax, I've given you some morphine and we're going to put a splint on your leg to make it more comfortable and then we're going to get you up to the East Wing and see what is going on with you, alright? How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy."

"That is because you have bled all over my floor, but I'm giving you a top up of the substitute. It will help bring your blood pressure back up again," Martha assured him. "I'm going to sort out your leg now. It is going to hurt, but only while we do it. It will feel better once we have," Martha commented.

"Are you going to use a traction splint on him?" Jack checked when he saw the metal frame with straps across it along the full length. Martha nodded as she started to cut right up his trouser leg so that they weren't going to be putting it on over his clothing. She bared him right up to the bottom of the pelvic belt where the fabric had already been cut away because of the wound. With his leg visible it was plain to see that there was a definite rotation at his hip joint. "His hip has gone hasn't it?" Jack commented.

"Yeah," Martha confirmed. "It is out of socket, whether there are fractures there as well, I don't know. We have to act as though there are. If I didn't know he'd been hit by that ghost thing I'd say he'd been hit by a car," Martha announced. "I'm going to control the movement of his leg. Jack, can you tighten the pelvic belt again as soon as his leg is flat. Arthur? Get the splint ready so I can unwind his leg into it," Martha instructed. "Major, I need you to make sure he has a hand to hold. It is going to hurt him even with the morphine, but it won't last."

Everyone took their places. "Alan, I'm going to do it now. Take a deep breath," she instructed. She held his leg just above his knee and got a good grip of it while a nurse took the actual weight of his lower leg. She lifted his knee so it was not splayed out to the side. Martha was slow, making sure there was no resistance coming from his hip joint as she did it. The Colonel started with a moan, but by the time Martha had lowered his leg so it was straight down beside his other it had escalated into a full cry. Jack used the Velcro straps to readjust the pelvic belt so it applied pressure right over his hips. Martha put his leg down into the traction splint. A strap was passed around his lower back where the outside slide of the metal splint was secure. It was a wide strap and was just used to anchor and stabilise the splint. They fastened straps over his leg and right down to his foot where Martha removed his boot.

They then loosened some nuts in the frame and pulled it so that it was longer. His leg was stretched inside it applying a lengthening traction to his leg through his hip and his thigh. The Colonel cried out as they did it, but when it was locked off his leg and hip were totally still and secure.

"That is it, Alan, we're done," Martha assured the Colonel. "Just take deep breaths and relax. We will get you back into the East Wing."

"You're going to be okay, Sir," Jack assured the Colonel as well. He did so a little louder than Martha had as her intention had been to solely provide the man himself assurances and comfort. Jack wanted his fallen comrades to hear it as well. For them the concern for their Commander and Chief would weigh heavily on them as they also waited for some attention. They would certainly not begrudge it to their commander, but they would not like to hear him crying out as he had done. Within the heart of UNIT as with any other institution or establishment they were people and a family. They lived together, trained together, worked together, fought together, and they knew that someday they might die together. At the head of that family was the base commander and that was Colonel Mace.

Jack knew not to underestimate the emotional power that Mace held, especially since he was not only the base commander but also well liked. It was quite rare to command the respect and the authority of a group of me so young and troubled after previous incursions onto Earth with compassion rather than authoritarianism. Mace joining a battle would bring a hundred additional soldiers as those involved already would step up that bit more. To lose a commander in battle could literally be the turning point and lead from victory to the most catastrophic of defeats as the men lost not only their direction but someone they looked up to and it was as if they were losing a part of themselves. For a base commander to be injured, to be laid out crying in pain whilst being tended to in the field of battle, especially one which was unexpected and within their own heart? It would be hard for the men and women who he commanded to see him taken out and vulnerable. It would be to them like seeing the Doctor so badly hurt was to him. That little inch they stood taller in his company was lost with a deflation of the spirit, and for those wounded with him it would see like their own fate would rest with the Colonels.

"Alright, we're secured and ready to go," Martha advised as she fastened a strap over the Colonel. Not because the road to the East Wing was bumpy, but because if they passed anything untoward she didn't want the Colonel to try to sit up. Until his blood pressure was up properly there was a chance he would faint again and she did not want him to aggravate his injuries. His femoral artery remained in danger.

The East Wing had turned into something that looked like a scene from a budget disaster movie. All the medics on duty were not there as far as Martha could see and several that had been off duty but on base were starting to arrive and were being booked in and put into teams by Gerald as part of the triage process. It would not be long until the handful of medics that were off base started to arrive as well as a full all available hands had been broadcast through control to all of the medics and the military staff, so that they had personnel both to manage the influx of injured and to replace them in the field.

Gerald had teamed up with three of the paramedics including Yasser and Stan in the triage area and they were taking care of the emergency first aid for the walking wounded and ensuring that a couple more seriously injured remained stable while waiting for a team of medics to come free. They were the soldiers who had managed to turn up as walking wounded but probably should never have made it. News that the Colonel had been injured had travelled to most corners of the base now, and there was a high level of concern for him. The seven cots had been increased to twelve with them being pushed even closer together. All of them were occupied by people waiting for attention in the area where the pool table had been. The pool table had been pushed to the side and was stacked with bandages and other medical supplies.

"How are we doing for space?" Martha asked. Several patients had been moved in while she was dealing with the Colonel. "Is there a side room still available?" She didn't want the Colonel to be gawped at by his men while he was receiving treatment and she didn't want the men to be too worried about the Colonel if they caused him pain whilst treating him. There were four side rooms in the East Wing which were designed to hold the four patients that was the normal maximum in the area. The board that showed who had been booked into the East Wing showed that room 3 was still vacant, but when Martha went in there two beds had been pushed in and both were occupied.

"Who is managing the board?" Martha asked as she came out, frustrated that the information was not only one patient out but two.

"Um… me, I am," Naomi advised as she came out from behind a screen that had been put up to separate an area for triage treatment. She had a handful of bloody bandages in one hand, looking for a new yellow bin to dispose of them. In her other hand she had a medication chart that was being set up for the patient she had been dealing with. She was obviously multi-tasking to the extreme. There were more patients needing initial treatment than there were medical teams.

Okay, don't worry." Martha certainly wasn't going to have a go with her about that. "Leyton, come over here," she called a Corporal over. He was in the area but he didn't seem to be one of the wounded. "Are you injured?"

"No ma'am, I'm sorry. I brought Carl in," he commented and indicated toward a closed door. "He was bad ma'am."

"Okay," Martha nodded. "While we wait for news would you be able to do something for me?" she checked.

"Is that the Colonel?!" Leighton was shocked when he saw who it was on the gurney that Martha was trying to find a spot for. He stood to attention and saluted.

"I don't think it is time for formalities just now. I need you to check to see who he has been injured and put their details and location up here on the board. There is only room for four names usually, but it is a white board marker so just extend it up onto the actual wall," Martha instructed. I need to know who is in here, whether they are classed as P1, P2, or P3, where they are currently located, and who their primary medic is."

"Okay," Leighton commented. "Task and roll?" he checked confirming he understood what he was doing.

"That is it," Martha was familiar with the military side.

"Do you want me to update as it changes?"

"Yes, but no ranks go up in here, so, you can start with A Mace, P2, I'll be his primary medic, and I'm still trying to find out where I can locate him," Martha offered.

"We need somewhere out of view," Jack commented as there were plenty of people realising that the Colonel had been brought in. He didn't need to have to try to be base commander, he had to be allowed to relax and to accept that he was hurt, but still to be able to contribute to the safety and well-being of his base and even if he was able.

"I've nowhere," Martha commented. "Even the rooms are doubled up."

"Well, give me a moment," Jack stated. He went into the Doctor's room.

"Jack, you were ages! I thought you might have been killed, you've not been killed have you?" the Doctor checked with him.

"No, avoided that so far," Jack offered.

"Is everything alright? Where is the Harlequin Ghost?"

"It has bolted."

"Bolted?" the Doctor puzzled. "That doesn't make much sense."

"They got it in the head wound and it ran. It's holed itself up so it's quiet just now. It's giving them time to bring the wounded back in here for treatment and to restock, regroup, and reload. There are a lot of wounded," Jack commented.

"They are lucky only to have been injured."

"I know, but, listen. They have run out of private space, and well, Colonel Mace has been hurt. It would not be fair on anyone for him to be put in the main triage area to wait, or for him to be in a corridor, or for someone already settled in a room to be kicked out. He is not going to be able to relax if he is out there in the mix with his men."

"Is he conscious?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes."

"Then he should come in here," the Doctor announced not realising that was what Jack was hinting at. "If you shift my bed over further toward the wall then another can be brought in, and, if he is conscious then he can provide tactical information about the troops and the base," the Doctor advised. "If Martha lets him. How badly is he injured?"

"Are you sure you want him in here? I know you don't always see eye to eye. If he is going to stress you out and stop you from relaxing?" Jack checked.

"Get him in here, Jack, if the man has been hurt by the Harlequin then he is going to need attention."

"It looks like it has broken his hip and pelvis and he's got a massive jagged wound," Jack advised.

"Humans are so fragile," the Doctor commented.

"Ahem?" Wilfred pointed to the Doctor's cast leg. "Pot? Kettle? Black? Colonel Mace has been injured fighting against a killer hostile alien that you have described as death and has single handed broken through bullet proof glass, metal shutters, and taken out several units of armed soldiers so by all accounts quite a formidable enemy, and you? You fell off a ladder?" Wilf reminded the Doctor making Jack laugh and the Doctor pout momentarily.

"I could go off you, you know?" the Doctor commented, but then laughed as Wilf rubbed his shoulder. They shifted his bed over a foot so they had room to get both beds into the room and still be able to walk around them on both sides so that they had access to treat either one of them as needed. It was tight and in close quarters, but it was certainly possible. Jack went back out.

"The Doctor has invited the Colonel to remain in his room until somewhere more practical becomes available," Jack offered. "We have shifted his bed over and there is room."

"The Doctor?" Mace asked and the moaned quietly into the oxygen mask making it cloud up. "I'll need… more morphine… for the headache," the Colonel complained and Martha laughed as she pushed him into the room. It was only when the gurney was being pushed in that the Doctor realised what he'd just said. Colonel Mace in the same room as him? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. He couldn't back out now though could he? Not when the Colonel was being pushed into the room on a gurney and looked to be pretty seriously hurt with a drip in his arm and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

"Colonel," the Doctor offered a bit awkwardly.

"Doctor," the Colonel sounded equally as uncomfortable. Martha chuckled slightly as she positioned Mace's bed next to the Doctor's and put the brakes on both of them just in case.


	27. Chapter 27

"Right, I want to get your scans done immediately," Martha advised the Colonel as soon as his bed was positioned beside the Doctor. A second set of monitors, a drip bag stand, and several other bits and pieces were pushed into the room from areas outside. Martha started by putting a blood pressure cuff around his bicep. She remained concerned about the amount he had bled and the potential for further bleeding from his femur.

A nurse with spikey blue hair came in and was helping Martha set up before she even realised that Ed had come in from a day's leave she had planned for months in order to assist with the alert. She had theatre tickets that evening, but had booked the whole day. Martha checked her watch. She would try to make sure Ed got out again so not to miss the play she had been going on about it for weeks and the tickets were hard to come by having sold out within a couple of hours of going on sale. Martha didn't say anything about Ed being there, but she smiled and nodded letting her know she appreciated it.

"Let's get another pack of blood substitute up," Martha commented as the monitors showed that the Colonel's blood pressure was a little low and his heart rate was on the fast side. It was nothing more than she expected to see. His oxygen saturation was only slightly reduced which was good, but it was probably enough to make him feel under the weather on top of the discomfort of his injury. "How is the pain?" Martha asked him, happy that he was stable and that another pack of the blood substitute would further improve his overall condition.

"It's about a six," Colonel Mace advised aware of the scale Martha would want to use. Ten was the worst pain ever, zero was no pain at all, and six was the lancing, burning, stabbing, aching he was enduring in his side and hip region.

"Okay, that is still higher than I'd like, so let's get you some more morphine." She gave him another shot of the drug to try to make him more comfortable while they dealt with him. "Let's see how you feel with that," Martha offered. She had a quick check to make sure that the bleeding remained under control. They would check the condition of his pelvis, hip, and femur with immediate scans and then start to do what they needed to do in order to stabilise and treat the injury.

"Is he going to be okay?" Major Starkey asked Martha.

"We will do all that we can," Martha nodded. "You're going to be in command for a while longer though."

"Sir, your permission to contact Major Proctor?" Major Starkey checked with the Colonel.

"You're in command, Major," the Colonel advised. "If you feel it appropriate… then you should call him in."

"I think everyone, including me, would be relieved if he were able to come in and take command," Major Starkey advised.

"You're doing a good job," Captain Jack assured her. "We need to get all the information that Private Coates was gathering for us. Martha? What would you say about continuing to utilise this area for information gathering and tactical analysis?"

"You mean that you now want to bother two of my patients rather than just one?" Martha checked with him.

"Yes," Jack nodded and then grinned cheekily.

"As long as you don't get in the way and both the Colonel and the Doctor agree and continue to be calm about it. You can continue to use their expertise while they are able. It is the Doctor's leg and the Colonel's hip that have been injured, they both still have mouths that work," Martha commented receiving a funny look from the Doctor. "The minute that I think it is detrimental to their health it stops."

"Agreed," Jack confirmed. "So, where are we at?"

"You said the Harlequin bolted?" the Doctor picked up the conversation where he had left off. It didn't make sense for it to retreat, it went against everything he knew about Harlequin Ghosts, granted, he was nowhere near an expert on things, but he had never heard of a Harlequin that had engaged retreating.

"It got shot… in the head wound," the Colonel obliged the Doctor with information even though it had been directed at Jack. "It ran off."

"Did you shoot it?" Jack checked with him.

"No, I could not get a shot. I drew it back so my men… they got the shot and one of them got it," the Colonel advised and took the oxygen mask off so he could talk more clearly. Martha watched him do it. She let him do it, but he seemed to rest back against the bed and discuss things rather than be ready to fully engage and discuss them. She hoped he would perk up a bit as he continued to receive the blood substitute, but he had to be feeling the effect of the loss of life amongst the men and women under his command as well.

"It hit you, but it did not kill you," the Doctor offered. "Do you remember if it hit you directly or if it just knocked you down attacking someone else?"

"It was direct and deliberate," the Colonel advised. "It had no eyes… but I swear it was looking… straight at me, as if… it was studying me for that brief moment… when I identified myself."

"Why didn't it kill you?" the Doctor pondered for a moment. "Not that I am sorry it didn't, but it doesn't make sense."

"I was sure it was going to… I stood right in front of it… I identified myself and it attacked. Private Mike Larson was there right beside me and it killed him. Killed him outright and ripped his throat out… some of this blood?" The Colonel pulled at his uniform for a moment. "It's his. It killed him but not me and it could have."

"That is interesting."

"Is it?"

"Yes," the Doctor didn't elaborate on why. "And, you definitely identified yourself?"

"Yes."

"As the base commander?"

"Yes."

"And you say it has run off?"

"A bit of scale was shot off its head, Doctor," Martha commented and fished it out. She had wrapped it in a bit of lint from the med-kit to keep it safe.

"I picked that up… after it had run off."

"But it would not run off," the Doctor frowned.

"Why not? It had been wounded."

"It's not like you or I. It does not feel pain if wounded, and a bit of scale would not render it incapable. It makes no sense for it to bolt."

"It is holed up in the roof space above the autopsy lab," Jack advised. "It has definitely gone back up there. The hatch was open and there was some blood on the ceiling. There has been no one else in there, it has been out of bounds," Jack commented.

"Roof space?" Colonel Mace didn't look sure. "There isn't a roof space in the autopsy lab. It's got a solid ceiling."

"It went up into a hatch into the ceiling in the autopsy lab," Jack commented. "I saw where it has gone up."

"So it's in the ventilation system?" the Doctor checked.

"No, it's not one of the ventilation system vents. It was an access hatch into the ceiling in the autopsy lab," Jack commented. He went to the screen and went to pull the plans up so he could identify what he was looking at and where the Harlequin Ghost had gone. It hadn't gone up into the ventilation system. He'd not have just been sitting on his laurels if that was where it had gone. It had gone into an access shaft into the ceiling above the autopsy lab and that had to be a confined space because of all the security systems and secure lines in place.

"While Jack looks at that we're going to do your scans," Martha insisted not wanting there to be a delay in the tactical advancement of the situation but not allowing there to be a delay in the treatment the Colonel needed. She took the scans of his hip and his pelvis from all the angles she needed within a couple of minutes. She also made sure she checked his spine. "Sorry, Jack, can you use the tablet?" Although Martha asked she did not give him the choice and transferred the data he was looking at onto the tablet so she could put the Colonel's scan data up. She stood directly in front of the screen, obscuring it from the others for a moment, as she examined them to make sure there wasn't anything really horrific there. It was nasty, but it was not heart-stopping bad.

"How is he?" the Doctor asked her.

"Are you happy for an open discussion?" Martha asked the Colonel.

"It doesn't look like there is much choice," the Colonel nodded.

"Well, there is, we can discuss it in private if you would rather?"

"No, it is fine... I know he has bust his leg up... so yes, it is fine to discuss."

"Okay," Martha nodded. "Well, the good news is that you have no spinal damage so we can get you off that board and it will be more comfortable for you."

"What is the bad news?"

"You have got an incomplete crack across the acetabulum which is the socket of your hip and part of your pelvis," Martha advised the Colonel. "It's not serious and won't need to be stabilised but it's going to be pretty sore. It is where the head of your femur should sit."

"Should?" the Doctor didn't miss what Martha had said.

"Yeah," Martha nodded and then looked across the Doctor to the Colonel again. "You have a dislocation of your hip, Alan, and an oblique fracture through the neck of your femur. It is an impact fracture and such runs through the neck and down into the shaft area," Martha advised. She pulled the appropriate scan back up so it was on the screen and then she enlarged it up so that both the Doctor and Colonel Mace could see it. "I will get James in to view these, but you're going to need pretty urgent surgery to stabilise that lot. In the next 24 hours I should think," Martha warned the Colonel what he was going to be looking at.

"Okay, and then how long?"

"It will depend on how we stabilise and what the blood supply is like to the femur. It all depends on how we can deal with the soft tissue damage as well, but you're going to be looking at least a couple of months to recover and then probably another month or two of rehabilitation afterward," Martha advised him. "But, what we do need to do is take it slow and carefully for now. Once we have consulted with James then I am sure he will have a better idea of what you're going to be looking at. It is a serious injury, but it's not as complex as it could be. We will need to be quite careful with it, Alan, unless you want to be left with an arthritic hip."

"Okay."

"Let's get the back board out though and then you can lie on the mattress which will be kinder to you," Martha offered. "Just relax, okay, let us do the moving. You've not broken your pelvis right through, but you have a lot of severe bruising coming out there and it is going to be sore too," Martha warned him. Martha and Ed utilised Captain Jack to help as they rolled Colonel Mace up onto his left side away from his injury so they could get the solid plastic back board out from under him. The Colonel cried out as he was rolled onto his side as it naturally changed the weight through his hip even with the traction and pelvic belt holding him still.

"There we go, that is it, just relax," Martha insisted as the Colonel moaned and then cried out again as he was gently rolled back down to rest on the mattress. It felt worse to begin with, but as he calmed down slowly he found himself more able to relax on the softer mattress than on the board that had made everything seen that little bit more sore.

As the Colonel sighed a breath of relief as he settled down again he was about to tell Major Starkey that it was okay and that she did not need her to hold him any longer. He could feel her grip his shoulder in a gentle display of support. He imagined that she felt rather awkward offering him that kind of support. He'd have liked Captain Price to come down and hold his hand, but she was in the control room doing what she did best gathering all the information that they needed and trying to monitor and keep it all together remotely. She was good at that and they needed her to do that, not come down and hold his hand just because his hip was hurting him.

He looked down at the hand on his shoulder. It was not Major Starkey's hand, nor was it any of the medics. It was not the older liver spotted hand of the elderly man visiting the Doctor. He could not remember his name but he was sure that he had given an instruction for the civilians to be immediately escorted off site as soon as the door to the East Wing had been opened and he was still there. He looked a fairly determined sort. It was not his hand on his shoulder though, it was the Time Lord's.

Their beds were close enough together in the small room designed for one that he had been able to reach out across the gap and offer him support. He looked at the Doctor's hand, noticing for some reason that he had long thin fingers – though long and thin seemed to be a good description for all of the injured alien. Despite his own obvious discomfort the Doctor had made an effort to try to comfort him.

"Thank you, Doctor," the Colonel acknowledged.

"Colonel," the Doctor confirmed and then took his hand back, a little embarrassed by it all. It had seemed like the right thing to do, and, the Colonel had assisted him with his pain when being dealt with by James. Perhaps, since Martha had indicated she would be consulting with him regarding the Colonel's injury that they now had more than one enemy in common, not only would they have to unite against the Harlequin Ghost but also against Orthopaedic Specialist Mr James Lloyd.

"I suppose, Doctor, that circumstances as they seem to be at the present time, and since Doctor Jones insists on doing so herself, that it may be more appropriate, if on a temporary basis, that you were to call me Alan."

"Alan," the Doctor offered and nodded. "Okay."

"While this is all very positive and touching, Jack commented. "I think we may have a problem."

"And what is that?"

"You were right, Colonel," Jack advised. "There is no false ceiling in the autopsy lab."

"I thought not. It used to be a kitchen area."

"Yet, that alien has gone up there into the space, and it clearly not into the main ventilation system. It is a different system entirely," Jack advised. "Or, so it seemed initially."

"Initially?"

"It has not gone up into the ventilation." Jack pulled up the specification of the current autopsy lab on the screen with the current blue print. "The ventilation points are here and here." Jack pointed to the triangular points drawn on the blueprint..

"Okay," the Doctor accepted that Jack was right. He knew how to read a blueprint and he'd been into the autopsy lab himself. He knew where he was talking about.

"It has gone up here," Jack indicated to a point on the blueprint where there was no access hatch showing.

"There does not appear to be an entry point there, Jack," the Doctor thought he might take back what he thought about reading blue prints. "There is nothing there."

"Not on the blueprint, but there is an access hatch there, and, if you go back a year to the old blueprint from when it was a kitchen and not the autopsy lab, look? There is a secondary system in there for extraction rather than ventilation," Jack commented.

"The main extractors run through there," the Major confirmed. She had to do planned maintenance on them when it was the kitchen, but now the system was totally defunct. They had taken all the mechanics out of there and there were plans to seal it all which was why it was no longer showing on the blueprint. It needed no maintenance and the plan to plaster over the hatch was in place for in around six weeks.

"They're not on the map," Jack pointed back to the current system.

"There is nothing in them anymore, no extraction units or anything. It is all vacant," the Major advised. "We are going to seal it all up in a couple of months so rather than reissue the blueprints again we took them off ready. It isn't on the blueprint because it is redundant and needs no servicing."

"The problem is that the access hatch remains there and that is what the Harlequin Ghost has gone up into," Jack commented. "And, if I look at the schematics for the extraction system that no longer exists, it appears that it the backing pipes do link in with the main ventilation shafts." Jack pointed to what he was looking at on the schematic. "And, if all the extraction units have been taken out, that means that there is a free run for the Harlequin to enter here and to gain access to the ventilators back here, doesn't it?" Jack checked with the Major and the Colonel.

"So, what are you saying, Jack?" Martha asked him straight."

"The Harlequin Ghost is not just holed up in a redundant system," Jack advised. "It is in the ventilation system. I have got unit Foxtrot Alpha watching the access point to make sure it doesn't come back down, but it's not holed up in there. It is in the vents. It has access to the whole ventilation system."

"So it could come out any ventilation point?" Martha worried.

"No," Major Starkey stepped in and interrupted Jack. "It won't be able to. It's in the back system and not in the main system, so it won't be able to get through any of the ventilation units, so, if it's a vent then it won't come out, if it is a duct or an extraction point then it will have access to them. Assuming that it will follow the easiest path and not rip through the ventilation units, because then it can come out anywhere."

"It is unlikely to do that as it will know it will be detected if it breaks the ventilation, I assumed the system has a self-diagnostic program associated with it?" the Doctor checked.

"Yes, faults will feed back to control," Major Starkey confirmed.

"Then, perhaps we should get onto control and ensure they flag up any faults to us as a priority?" Jack suggested to Major Starkey. She nodded and then he got on and rang through to control. "And, ensure that there are at least three soldiers assigned to each of the vents that it might be able to get through," Jack added.

"Get a scan security scan of the building done to search for it in the vents," Colonel Mace instructed Major Starkey aware that Jack might not know of the advanced security systems they had installed. They were hi-tech and not commonly available, he did not know what he had available at Torchwood, but at UNIT they could scan their base.

"The sensors will be blind to it," the Doctor reminded the Colonel. "You need to track where it can go in the system, identify the easiest points where it will be able to get out," the Doctor advised. "Identify all the points where it can get out and position guards there. It has not bolted. It has changed tact, and it will be seeking the path of least resistance in terms of making a maximum impact, and, where a Harlequin is concerned maximum impact is maximum casualties."

"The admin block?" Martha worried. "We share a ventilation system with them. That is why we are so warm half the time, because they won't type in a jumper," Martha commented and Colonel Mace chuckled slightly at the on-going rows between medical and admin. "Sorry, Sir, it's not funny. And, besides, it that thing has got out through there then what hope have they got? And, it is in a different building only connected by that tunnel. It is beyond the security perimeter."

"Major Starkey, you need to order a unit to go and evacuate the administration building of all personnel. Then that building needs to be locked down. The unit are to remain on guard and to ensure they all have line of sight with each other and line of sight of any of the extraction points or vents in that building. Assuming that there are any?"

"Yes, there are three," Major Starkey advised. "They are part of the fire suppression system and are in the stairwells to extract smoke in the event of a fire," Major Starkey advised knowledgably.

"You certainly know your buildings," Jack offered warmly.

"That is my job," Major Starkey advised.

"If you give the order for the men to monitor the stairwells for activity once the building has been cleared. If it is clear there has already been a breech then they are to stand fast and secure the perimeter and await further instructions and I will go over and have a look," Jack offered. He did not want to send any more men into face the Harlequin. If they had to go in and check then he would do it. If he was killed it was a different story. He ignored the Doctor's heavy sigh from his bed. He knew the Doctor did not approve, but what was the choice? He'd faced the daleks to keep the Doctor safe and buy him time before he was immortal, he would certainly go and face a Harlequin now it could not permanently kill him to try and do the same. He continued to instruct Major Starkey. "Use one of the stand by units on the perimeter to do the evacuation, and have a patrol unit maintain the perimeter of the admin building as well," Jack instructed. Major Starkey nodded and went out to give the order to the men as if it was her own. They needed to have confidence in her as their commander, even if her own confidence only came to her through a Torchwood Captain.

"Captain?" the Colonel looked at him somewhat critically. With the blood substitute flowing into his arm, the oxygen, and his injury stabilised he was much more aware of what was going on. Jack bowed his head slightly thinking that he was going to get some kind of dressing down from the injured Colonel about giving proxy orders to his men through Major Starkey and accepting the role of number two when it was not his jurisdiction. He would not tell the Colonel that Major Starkey had wanted him to take over all command, that would likely get her into some kind of trouble as well and it was not deserved. Even if he was accepted as a number two he should not have been giving the senior staff instruction like that. The Colonel however surprised him with: "thank you."

"Sorry, Sir?" Jack was surprised not to be told off.

"For assisting," the Colonel confirmed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Jack nodded.

"You'd do well at UNIT."

"No," Jack commented and smiled. "No, I wouldn't."

"He'd be court martialled inside a day." Martha laughed and Jack nodded his agreement.

Major Starkey returned from coordinating units to go and evacuate the administration building, extend the perimeter around the building, and to position a double guard at every extraction point that could be accessed through the vent shafts from the autopsy lab she felt a little better about things. The men had received her orders well and had gone off to do it without anyone questioning her authority or whether it was the right tact. Of course she knew it had come from Captain Harkness but they didn't. She certainly didn't feel like she was in control or like she'd ever be happy in the position thrust upon her, she had only become a Major because it meant running her department in maintenance and engineering, and although Jack made regular analogies between the two worlds, she could not see how they ever compared. If she did not get prioritise the right tank to be repaired it just remained unrepaired for longer, it didn't end up dying or being killed, and, if it did – they bought a new one!

"Orders given and received, Ma'am?" Captain Jack check when she returned. She nodded her confirmation and then looked to Jack to see what he thought they should be doing next. It seemed like command was an awful lot of standing around doing nothing while everyone else did the work, she would be much happier if someone just gave her a tool kit and told her to get to work.

Private Coates returned knocked on the door and waited to be invited in, unsure if it was still a command post when the Colonel was in there. He looked pretty badly hurt with the way that his leg was in a metal frame. He must have broken his femur; that was the same kind of frame that his brother had put on his leg when he had broken his femur on his mud bike. That was bad news, he was going to be out for ages, and he knew that if it was a bad break then he might be left with one leg shorter than the other and if he had a limp would he still be able to be the base commander?

"Have you compiled your report?" Jack checked with Private Coates. He had a clip board with copious amounts of scribbled notes on it.

"Yes Sir."

"We assigned Private Coates with the task of seeking all available live intelligence," Captain Jack advised the Colonel and the Doctor so they knew what report he was walking about.

"Ah, I wondered where you had gone for so long," the Doctor commented. "I was hoping you would be able to assist me with the design of the liquid nitrogen delivery system?"

"Yes, I will, Sir," Private Coates acknowledged.

"One thing at a time, Soldier," Jack warned him. "Don't let yourself get over stretched. Your report first, and, Doctor?" Jack looked at the Time Lord formally. "Major Starkey here is the chief engineering and maintenance lead. Perhaps she will be able to help and offer some expertise on the matter? You may need resources that she will be able to readily access. You should establish lines of communication and seek her help too," Jack prompted wanting the Major to be able to show off her chosen skills rather than to be feeling like a fish out of water permanently.

"That sounds like an excellent idea," the Doctor confirmed. "But, Ethan, let's hear what you have to say first?"

"How do you want me to deliver the report?"

"Just go for it," Captain Jack advised.

"How about you give us the information in the order that you think is most urgent," the Doctor suggested.

"Okay."

"Go on then, report," Major Starkey instructed.

"Yes ma'am," Private Coates acknowledged that she was the authority even if he felt like he was working for the Colonel, the Doctor, and the for Captain Harkness. "As far as I can see the first priority is the roll call," Private Coates commented.

"The roll?" Major Starkey questioned him. "Not the whereabouts and activity of the alien thing?"

"Um…"

"Carry on as you were, Private," Colonel Mace commented quietly from his bed.

"Yes Sir," Private Coates offered. "We have done a full roll call twice now. There are currently four personnel unaccounted for," Private Coates advised. "One is a medic and three are military personnel. We are checking the barracks for the three unit personnel in case they did not attend the alert for some reason, but they are Private Jamie Norton, Private Edward Miller, and Sergeant Angela Scofield. I know that Ed was off base last night on leave. He may not have made it to parade this morning and the alert led from there."

"He came back drunk did he?" the Colonel asked.

"We are checking the barracks, Sir, and will advise if he and the others are located."

"Which medic is missing?" Martha checked.

"Mr. James Lloyd," Private Coates advised.

"James?" the Doctor checked and felt an unexpected pang of concern for the man who had seemed to make a living out of making injured people fear for their sanity in his presence.

"He was working in the research library this morning," Martha commented. "He was going there straight after he finished with us before the alert," she reminded the Doctor. "He was going to finish off the work he was doing ready to operate on your leg."

"That area was checked and cleared wasn't it?" the Colonel checked and looked to Private Coates. "The research library is on your route down toward the autopsy lab."

"Yes Sir, we cleared all the rooms along there. The research library is beyond the double doors at the bottom. At that point I went to the morgue and secured the doors back into the main corridor so the Harlequin could not easily bypass the hold, and Tony did the pathology lab and the research library. He confirmed it was clear of personnel."

"Did he go right in?" Martha checked with him.

"I am not sure, Ma'am," Private Coates admitted. "I was securing the alternate route through the morgue, but he said it was clear and he would have called out in there and made sure."

"James works with his headphones on listening to all kinds of rubbish on his i-pod," Martha offered. "If he was working and Tony did not go right in there is a chance that he did not see James and James would not have heard the alert," Martha commented. "I have told him about having his music on so loud before, but that is how he works best. He says it is so he can focus solely on what he is doing. We always have to page him when we need him as he has his pager on vibrate. He would never heard an announcement or the phone ringing."

"Should we continue with our room to room search or send them straight to the research library to check?" Private Coates asked.

"You've got a search going already?" Captain Jack checked with him.

"Yes, Sir, as soon as we identified that four personnel were missing."

"Who authorised that?" Major Starkey asked.

"Um, no one, we thought it better to find those that are missing as quickly as possible in case they are in need of attention."

"Who is conducting the search?"

"We have got the evacuated administrators to go and search in the barracks and the buildings outside of the perimeter," Private Coates advised. "I have go two members of UNIT Foxtrot Golf and two members of UNIT Foxtrot Yankee to go room to room through the entire medical wing. Foxtrot Zulu is standing by as well with search and rescue if necessary. I did not deploy him without authorisation in case it somehow triggers the Harlequin, but he is not readily involved in the patrols or perimeter with the other Foxtrot Zulus. Search and Rescue is ready to deploy though if we need him to."

"I will run round and see if James is still in the library," Captain Jack advised. "That way they can continue with their room to room search in case there are any others that have not come up on roll call or any of the three missing military staff."

"Is Foxtrot Zulu on the hold?" Colonel Mace asked Private Coates.

"No Sir, Search and Rescue is on standby and the Patrol is conducting the external security perimeter around this building and around the administration building to help ensure nothing gets out. I am sorry, Sir, we were unsure and did not want to deploy. Corporal Lane and I…"

"Did Corporal Lane give the orders to the units?"

"Yes Sir, but, don't admonish him, Sir. I was the one who made him give them. He wanted to wait for authorisation."

"You did it with it all without the authorisation?"

"Yes Sir, it is my fault."

"So, you organised the dog unit onto the perimeter and alerted the search and rescue dog the minute you realised that personnel are unaccounted for, but have not got it to come into the building yet in case it is attracted to or alerts the Harlequin?" the Colonel checked with him.

"Yes Sir," Private Coates bowed his head. He knew he had over stepped the mark and bypassed the chain of command. He had to have because he was right down at the bottom of that chain. He was the last link. He was only a private because there was no one around, if UNIT was to strength he'd only have been a training cadet. As far as he knew though lives were potentially in danger and if it turned out his actions saved one of them then it was worth his career. If it didn't, then, he would still have to face the consequences.

"Does the chain of command mean nothing to you?" Major Starkey asked him.

"It means everything, Ma'am, but not the lives of people that might be in need. I am sorry."

"We will discuss your actions after this crisis is over, Private," Colonel Mace commented. "You and I will have a serious chat about a cadet Private giving orders out."

"Sir," Private Coates felt like his entire world was going to come crashing down, but he wasn't sure what else he had been able to do.

"Because," the Colonel continued. "I did put you into the post of full-back command, and, as such you have behaved impeccably and given orders which are not only well thought out and correct, but have been carried out in such a way to minimise the impact on the rest of the operation. You say you got the administrators to go and check the barracks?" Colonel Mace chuckled. "I would have loved to have heard that conversation."

"They were reluctant at first," Private Coates offered.

"You have done well."

"Sir?" Private Coates asked. "You're not going to court martial me?"

"Not if the rest of your report is as coherent," Colonel Mace assured him. "Would you like to continue?"

"Yes, Sir." Private Coates checked his notes to find out where he was. "Still with the roll call, Sir. I am sorry to report that we currently have 18 confirmed dead, Sir." Private Coates advised solemnly. "That is 16 ranked officers and 2 medics," he commented. "Nine patients have been determined on initial medical investigation to be critical P1, 5 are going to be long term P2, and there are currently 16 soldiers receiving treatment for non-critical non-P2 injuries. That information remains in flux and is only accurate at the time received which is now 15 minutes ago. I was advised that a full medical status report may not be available for some time yet," Private Coates advised. He glanced to Martha. It felt strange giving a medical report when she was in the room. He had heard her giving medical reports before at the end of a drill briefing and she certainly gave a lot more information that he just had.

"All you need to report right now for medical is how many dead, how many not fit for duty," Martha assured him with a nod of the head. "As we investigate the injured we may discover people we believed to be seriously injured are not so badly hurt, or, those that we have stabilised may take a sudden downturn and become more serious, and, unfortunately the worst injuries may turn out to be fatal. We generally aren't able to give a full report until at least 24 hours after the incident is stood down," Martha explained to him. "All Command need to know now is how many dead and how many out of action."

"Does that include those who are not hurt but are so shocked that they are currently incapable of performing their duties?" Private Coates asked her.

"Yes," Martha nodded. She was impressed that Private Coates used the word shocked rather than the word scared or hysterical as she had heard banded around in previous incidents.

"There are 18 confirmed dead then and 34 out of action."

"34? You said 9 critical, 5 non-critical long term, and 16 walking wounded? That is 31 not 34," Major Starkey commented.

"Yes Ma'am. I had not included the Colonel in those figures yet as he has arrived since, and there are two soldiers who are not suffering with physical injury but are in psychological distress," he confirmed.

"Only two?" the Doctor sounded impressed. "I've read about whole squadrons buckling and running in the face of a Harlequin Ghost. Half of you are only kids and you're showing the courage and mindfulness of veterans," the Doctor praised and looked to the Colonel knowing that it had to be down to him. He was surprised to see that the Colonel had closed his eyes. He continued to watch him to see if it had only been for a moment, an extended blink, but it was not. It seemed odd when he was receiving a report, especially such a quality report from a junior staff member. "Martha?" the Doctor got her attention and then nodded toward the Colonel. "Is he okay?"

"Colonel?" Martha went to his bedside. "Alan?" Within a heart beat the monitor attached to the Colonel bleeped three times in rapid succession and then alarmed as his blood pressure was starting to drop rapidly. Martha hit a button on the back wall of the room. She hoped there was still medics available to respond. "Come on, Alan, don't be doing this." Martha pulled the bed sheet back from his bed and saw there was blood beginning to pool on it between his legs where it was soaking rapidly into the mattress. It was coming from… it was from somewhere.

"You bloody well keep still!" Martha snapped at the Doctor as he moved enough for it to set the pain in his leg going again. Two nurses ran into the room. They didn't even know the Colonel was in there, they just thought that the Doctor was.

"Doctor Jones?"

"He's bleeding out. We need to get him into theatre now," Martha advised as she grabbed wads of gauze and tried to find where the blood was actually coming from so she could deal with it.

"Both surgical areas we have set up are occupied," Nurse Williamson advised.

"Then we're going to theatre one," Martha stated firmly.

"That is outside the East Wing and beyond the hold," Major Starkey warned.

"I am not going to stand here and argue about it and lose him." Martha stated in such a way that it was clear that she really wasn't, and, if Major Starkey was in her way then she would run her over. "Major, I want four soldiers to guard the door into surgical theatre one and two soldiers inside," Martha instructed as she clicked the brake off the Colonel's bed.

"Get Gerald to leave triage to the paramedic team now. We should have all the walking wounded in. I need him down in theatre one to assist me," Martha instructed. "Now!" She barked as the alarm on the Colonel's monitors rose in pitch and frequency as his heart beat stuttered with the rapid blood loss. "Let's go." Martha pushed his bed out of the room herself as she waited for the others to catch her up. If that Harlequin Ghost even thought about paying a visit to her surgical theatre she would damn well finish the autopsy that she should have done the day before whether it was dead or not!

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" Wilfred was holding the Doctor's hand as the pain raged up and down his leg leaving him incapable of contributing to the crisis for a while. "You need to order the soldiers to protect that surgical theatre so Martha is safe in there and can work on the Colonel," Wilf reminded the Major who was left a bit bewildered. She was on her own again. The Captain had run off to look for a missing doctor and had not come back yet. The Colonel had started to alarm and bleed and had been pushed out of the room by the Medical Director who was taking him back out of the safe zone! That was against all kinds of protocols wasn't it?

"Do you want me to liaise with Corporal Lane to assign the guard, Ma'am?" Private Coates asked. Major Starkey nodded. "I will come right back and finish my report."

"Get someone in here as well," Major Starkey commented. "To mop the floor." There was a splatter of the Colonel's blood on the floor. Had that soaked right through the mattress to drip out the other side? That wasn't possible was it? That was bad.


	28. Chapter 28

Jack ran back along the corridor to the muster point at clinic 3. The two other injured soldiers from the area had been retrieved by medical teams so all the wounded were now in the East Wing. The floor around the muster point told the tale of the battles fought against the Harlequin in the area. There were shell casings littering the floor in and around pools of blood. There was also blood streaked in arterial sprays across the wall and in one place it had hit the ceiling. It was fairly horrific. Jack counted himself unlucky rather than lucky that over the years he had been desensitised to such scenes. It was clear by the occasional pile of sick that several of the men had not been.

"Where are you going now?" a member of the hold at the end of the corridor into the research labs and the pathology area asked Jack. He sounded tired that the Captain was going to attempt to get through the hold another time when they were under strict instruction not to let anyone past.

"To the research library."

"Why?"

"You do know that I have been put into a position of authority by Major Starkey as her number two, so I am currently second in command for this base?" Jack questioned the soldier to make sure he was up to speed.

"I am aware of that, Sir, however, I really don't care too much about that. This remains a hold point and no personnel are permitted to pass."

"Good show," Jack confirmed with a nod. "Nice to hear it, however, I do need to pass. I could just go the other way round again, but that would be cheating wouldn't it?" Jack offered. "We believe that there is a medic still down there beyond the hold who has not yet been evacuated. There is a unit doing a room to room search but they are being very thorough and are not going to get down here for a while. If he is in the research library then he is going to be needed down in the East Wing to do his bit with the wounded. So, let me pass."

"All rooms beyond the hold have been cleared of personnel."

"He may have been overlooked," Jack advised. He had not gone into that lab himself when looking for the bit of cage. He had gone straight into the inorganic chemistry lab and found it there. He had diverted Foxtrot Alpha from their search before they had got to that area so they could go and watch the hatch in the autopsy lab, which may well have been a mistake as the Harlequin could have been anywhere in half of the ventilation system by now. He didn't know how anyone could be sitting working through all of what had been going on, even if they had not heard the alert, the shutters had come down and then the Harlequin had broken through them all and there had been plenty of gunfire. How could he have worked through all of that, headphones on or not? Jack suspected that he might find James in the library but rather than find him working he had a suspicion that he was going to find him cowering and frightened and too worried about coming out and dealing with the people who had been hurt. He didn't think that highly of the man.

"Either one of you goes down there and checks the research library, or, you let me pass and I will do it," Jack commented. "I don't care which, but it needs to be checking and he needs to get back to the East Wing where people need him." The hold parted in front of Captain Jack as if he were commanding the Red Sea. "Thank you. I won't be long."

Jack had to climb through each of the shutters. There were two soldiers standing on guard between each of the shutters as there was no clear line of sight between the hold and the team in the autopsy lab. They would act as a communication relay if there was an issue in the lab and were there to secure and maintain the hold and a perimeter. Jack was going to go and get James out if he was still in there and then he had to work on the ventilation extraction and see where that thing would come out. He wondered if there was a way to predict its behaviour before it acted.

There had been no calls from any of the soldiers indicating that it had made any movements, so it was still up there, either recovering from being shot in the head wound, or, doing something. Whatever it was doing Jack didn't think it was going to be making party favours or anything pretty. He hoped Private Coates would finish his report and then be onto the liquid nitrogen weapon with the Doctor and Major Starkey. They had to work out how to create a delivery system that would not simply freeze the minute it was in contact with the nitrogen and would protect the user from being frost bitten or worse. He would help with that as soon as he could, he just had to go and get the idiot coward of a doctor out of the library first.

Jack got to the double doors in front of the autopsy lab where the second hold with unit Foxtrot Alpha had been positioned. He had given them the order to stay there so they were not as reluctant to deal with him as the initial hold which had been put in place by Colonel Mace were. "Has there been any movement?" Jack checked.

"No Sir."

"Very good, carry on," Jack commented.

"Where are you going, Sir?"

"There may still be a medic in the research library, I am just going to check. It is out the other side of this lab apparently?" Jack checked.

"Yes, Sir, the door at the far end."

"Good, thank you." Jack went to push the lab door open. It was not locked and was slightly ajar, but he saw that the lock was damaged and the wood in the frame was splintered slightly. He ran his finger along it. He'd not noticed that when he had passed before, but he'd not really been looking. The door was damaged. He went to push it open and the wood ground on the floor where the door did not swing open cleanly. It only moved a couple of inches and then it jammed. That had not been reported by Private Coates, so either they really had not checked the area properly, though why would such damage not be noted before the Harlequin had got out of the autopsy lab.

There were some splinters of wood on the floor so it was clear that it was very new damage. It had to have been caused by the Harlequin? No one had been engaged this far down as far as Jack knew, so why had it been drawn to that door? Jack's mind ran on from why was James still in there, to who would fix the Doctor's leg if James had been killed. He personally admonished himself as that was a rather cold thought, he preferred the ungracious consideration of James as a coward to thinking that he had been killed.

"Did any of you damage this door?" Jack asked the unit.

"No, Sir," the unit leader advised. He wondered why Jack would think they might have damaged a door. He saw how Jack had to use his body weight to try and force and lift the door open at the same time. The unit leader indicated to two soldiers to join Jack as the captain went into the room just in case there was an issue and he needed back up. There was blood on the floor to the lab. It was enough to obviously visible and not so that if it had been there when he room was checked that it could have been missed.

"Doctor Lloyd?" Jack called out. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be called Doctor Lloyd or not. He thought he was a Mr Lloyd but was that higher than Doctor Lloyd or not because surely he was a doctor as well. He didn't rightly care at that point but he thought he might ask Martha. Not that he was worried about offending the man that made a habit out of hurting the Doctor. "Are you in here? James?"

"Over here!" Jack heard James's voice. "Quickly! Where have you all been?!" James continued. Jack hurried over to where he was calling out from. He was not in the library but had pulled two desks over to block a view from the main area of the lab so he was not visible from the lab door. "Jack?" James wasn't sure if he was relieved or appalled that it was the Captain who had located him. "Where is everyone? There is no one answering the phone. I need help in here!" James yelled at him. He sounded panicked and Jack thought he had probably got himself into some kind of hysterics with fear. He wasn't too convinced about what he was doing. "We need help!"

"We?" Jack hurried further. Behind the barricade of two desks that James had built he was kneeling on the floor. There was a young female soldier with him. She was lying on her back on the floor. James had put his headphones on her and selected a soothing playlist on his i-pod to try to keep her calm, but she didn't seem to be conscious as far as Jack could see. At least he hoped she wasn't conscious since James had packed blue roll in and around a hole in her side and still had his hand wrist deep in the wound. The woman was hard to recognise as she had obvious facial injuries as well. "Jesus?" Jack was stunned to see what James was doing.

"I have been hollering for an age!" James sounded close to tears. "I couldn't go and get help!" he advised. "There was a thing! It attacked her. She was in the library with me doing some work and then the shutters all came down. I didn't even hear the alert and she got my attention. She went ahead and the thing, I think it is the alien from the autopsy lab, it hit her with such a force. It smashed the door! I managed to get her back in and here and hid but I can't get help! We need help!"

"Why didn't you just run and call one of us?" the unit soldier asked. They had only been in the autopsy lab. They'd not heard anyone hollering but they had been talking amongst themselves and the walls were thick.

"I've got my finger plugging an arterial bleed. I don't have any clamps of anything. I don't even have gloves!" James sounded a little frantic. "I couldn't go anywhere. If I take my finger out she is going to bleed to death. She is bleeding to death even now, just more slowly, I need a team here now or she is going to die! I couldn't even write a note because I used my pen for that!" He indicated toward the woman's throat and Jack could see the shaft of a parker ball point pen poking through the front of her neck as he had managed to perform an emergency tracheotomy. Her jaw looked to be smashed, but her chest was staggering up and down as she breathed even as she had a surgeon's hand inside her. "This is not my field, Jack," James told him seriously. "You need to go and get a team and you need to make sure that Luke Wilson is on it and Martha!" James instructed.

"I will get a team," Jack commented. He didn't tell James that Luke Wilson would not be on it because he was going to be dead. Jack didn't think he had ever felt quite so immediately wrong about someone. He had misjudged James entirely, both for being a coward and for not wanting to get involved. He knew that the amount of time it would take for him to get in touch with someone in the East Wing, explain what was going on, arrange a team of people when they were all involved with others and then get them to come to the right place was going to be quicker if he just ran. He would sort it personally.

"Out my way!" He did not stand for the hold being in his way now. "And do not be in my way on my return!" he barked back at them as he ran to the East Wing. He burst into the Doctor's room expecting it to be as he'd left it so he could get Martha, but she had gone and so had the Colonel.

"Where's Martha?!" Jack felt a bit panicked now. "I need an emergency medical team!" He ran back out again without waiting to find out what had happened. "Gerald!" He waved the medic over. "I need a team with blood substitute and equipment and they're going to need a clamp! For an arterial bleed! Get a team with an artery clamp and oxygen and a full kit! Where is Mace?"

"He started to bleed out. They had to take him into surgery and there has been no news yet," Private Coates advised him. "Can I help with anything?"

"I don't think so, stay with the Doctor, and help him with the liquid nitrogen weapon."

"Major Starkey has assigned her team to work on it, the Doctor's leg has been hurting him too much to work since Colonel Mace left."

"Okay, fine." Jack knew that was likely best.

"Where are we going, Jack?" Gerald asked as he came out with a gurney with equipment on it that they needed and two nurses. He had been supposed to be going in to assist Martha with the Colonel, but he'd been tied up with a patient so Dr Carter had gone initially. He hoped Martha would understand but he had finished with his patient now and was going to check if she needed him to replace Dr Carter or not.

"The pathology lab, I'll lead the way," Jack hurried with the kit to where they were going. They could not take the gurney through the holes in the shutters but the back board and all the equipment fit. The only other option would be to go through the morgue and around the autopsy lab, but if the Harlequin was still up there seeing a group of people moving through it might have triggered it off. Jack could not put medics in that kind of danger. The system for the shutters had been significantly damaged by the Harlequin when it had been ramming into them to create the holes so they could not be retracted.

Jack led the medical team into the pathology lab and pulled the tables out the way to reveal James on his knees attempting to keep the young woman alive with his finger poked into a severed artery.

"Where is Martha?" James asked when he saw that the medic sent was Gerald.

"In surgery," Jack advised. "While you have been in here there have been several other attacks by the creature," Jack advised him. "There are fatalities, James, including Luke and Walt."

"We're in a code one situation at the moment Mr Lloyd," Gerald advised him. James looked at the medics. They all looked a little pale and on edge and had blood on their uniforms. He realised this was not going to be the first critical patient any of them had seen that morning. "We can discuss it when we are secure here. What have we got?" Gerald asked.

"She has a lacerated wound that has penetrated into her liver causing significant bleeding. The hepatic artery is compromised," James advised. "It is plugged with my finger at present."

"Jack made sure we brought an artery clamp," Gerald commented. It was not a normal bit of kit. He broke it out of its sterile seal. He followed down James's hand into the wound and found where he was blocking the artery. How he had managed to get his finger in there Gerald did not know, but he had done and in doing that had saved her life. He clamped the artery, sealing it with the metal pincers. He then tied a piece of suture around the artery so that it was closed and James could take his finger out of it. James groaned deeply as he rocked backward away from her. Jack guessed that he had been in that position for as long as the shutters had been down and that was coming on for an hour. Had he really been kneeling there with his finger in her artery for an hour? No wonder he was stiff.

The medics worked together to get the female soldier stabilised enough so they could transfer her onto the back board. They had to tape around the pen sticking out of her throat and block her head so that her neck could not move. Her facial injuries were quite severe and it looked like her eye socket had been smashed as well as her jaw. They got her on the board and ready to go, but James just sat there and watched as if he was now in some kind of shock himself. Jack knew it would have been very easy for James to have given up and left her to get help and take the risk even if he was fairly certain she would have died very quickly. They got the blood substitute up and running for her, but there was little else they could do without getting her into surgery.

"Right, let's go," Gerald instructed and the two nurses and two unit soldiers lifted the back board up and transported her out while Gerald continued to ensure she was stabled and hold the dressings to the wound and the drip bag high. They were going to have to transfer her through all the shutters and then get her on the gurney and down to the East Wing as quickly as possible. James had not made any attempt to get up and Jack remained with him.

"She's not your girlfriend or anything is she?" Jack checked quietly as James seemed subdued and had not yet moved off his knees. He seemed miles away and didn't answer. "James?"

"Sorry, what?"

"The female soldier? Is she your girlfriend?"

"Jamie?" James asked and shook his head. "No, she's not my girlfriend," James confirmed. "She's a patient. She broke her ankle not so long ago. About three months or so. She'd just come in and asked me to show her some exercises to help her strengthen it up some more. She races round jumping off buildings and things. Parkour they call it I think. Of all the things for a young woman to spend her time doing, breaking an ankle wasn't warning enough for her and she wanted to strengthen up so she can compete next month," James advised.

"She's not going to be worrying about that now is she?" Jack offered kindly.

"No." James sighed. "I don't think she is going to make it. Certainly not back to the level of fitness she had."

"I'm sorry," Jack commented realising that James actually did care about that. He wasn't just worried about it in the sense that he had fixed her ankle for her to go and get herself attacked by the Harlequin Ghost and it being some kind of waste of his time. He was worried about it, and, for Jamie to have gone and found him to ask him about doing some exercises that any of the other medics could have told her then he had to be trusted and accepted by her. It didn't really make much sense that James seemed so off with the Doctor. It was at odds with what Jack was witnessing now as the medic was obviously worried and had been perturbed by the injuries that Jamie had received and had stayed with her for an hour shouting for help that he must have thought was never going to come.

"What has been going on out there?" James asked. "You said Luke is dead?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, Luke and Walt and sixteen other military staff. I came looking for you because the roll indicated you were unaccounted for, but we can walk and talk at the same time. I am acting as the number 2 and we need to make provision for it that thing attacks again."

"You go on ahead if you need to. I will catch up."

"No, you can't stay here. You're behind the current hold and in the live zone. The Harlequin Ghost, that is the alien, it has not yet been contained. It could attack again and you can't be in this area. The East Wing is the fall-back point and where all the medics are. The last count was that there are 18 dead and 34 wounded, it will be 35 now," Jack added the young female.

"There are make shift surgeries on going. I am sure Martha is worried about you and there are patients she is going to need you to consult on as well. Once you've got cleaned up and have your breath back. She is going to get you to consult on Colonel Mace too. Martha just took him into surgery because he was bleeding out somewhere, but he's got a break right through the neck of his femur. You need to get yourself cleaned up, have five to refresh, and then get on and help," Jack insisted.

When James didn't get straight up to come back with him Jack wondered if he was just being obstinate, but the way he had saved that young woman's life? He could have left her at any time and no one would have blamed him. He wasn't being difficult. "James?" Jack realised that he had been right there as well. "Are you injured?" Jack checked with him but James just sighed heavily.

"Look, I have got to get back. The hostile is not yet contained and we don't know what it is doing. We have a team making a weapon to try and deal with it. The Doctor is the expert on it and he is in too much pain with his leg to continue with us, Major Starkey is in command until Major Proctor returns and he is out of the country so it is going to be a few hours yet even though they have commissioned a jet to bring him back. I am acting as her number 2. Mace is in emergency surgery and I need to go, but I can't leave you here, so if you are injured then just bloody well tell me where so I can either help or get a team and then get back to my duties."

"And they say my manner is bad?" James commented. "I have an on-going knee injury, I went down onto it too heavily when moving those desks, and have been kneeling on the hard floor for too long," James advised Jack.

"You're the top orthopaedic specialist in Europe and you have a dodgy knee?"

"Ironic huh?" James commented.

"It is a bit," Jack agreed. "How dodgy?"

"I'm on my second full replacement and have a third due in the near future," James advised.

"That is pretty dodgy then"

"Yes, and…" James tried to get off his knees casually but he grimaced. "Give me a hand up, Jack?"

"Are you sure we don't need to get another stretcher around?"

"No, just give me a hand up," James asked again. Jack did what James wanted and lifted him up. It seemed to hurt him a lot to get his leg to straighten back out from where he had been kneeling as he took all of his weight on his right leg. He tried to get his left foot onto the floor and then to see how much weight he could transfer through it. "Bugger."

"I will go and get a team," Jack suggested when it became clear James could not put any weight on his leg.

"It's okay, just lend me a shoulder," James asked.

"If you're sure?"

"Yeah, I've got a brace and some crutches in my office. I will just call in there and get them."

"So, is this a regular occurrence?" Jack checked.

"A couple of times a year. It's not always this bad though." He had to hop holding onto Jack. They got out of the room and then they enlisted a second shoulder so that James could balance out and was more able to hop between them.

"So, come on then? How did you end up with a dodgy knee? Was it before or after you became an orthopaedic surgeon?" Jack checked with James.

"Before I specialised, while I was at medical school," James advised. "I played rugby union though school and at university, until I got my knee totally blown out in a bad tackle. The knee injury I had was not dissimilar to the Doctor's, fractured tibia, full dislocation, and torn ligaments. It was 26 years ago now though, and the treatments weren't as good and the surgeries weren't so hot. They didn't do that great a job of fixing it for me and it all failed a couple of years later and the only option was a replacement," James advised.

"What, so you decided to specialise in orthopaedics to do a better job for everyone else than they did for you?"

"Kind of," James confirmed. "I hoped to, and, they videoed everything they did on my knee and I was fascinated by it all. I try my hardest to get things right so people aren't left with dodgy knees or ankles or legs or shoulders or whatever it is that they need fixing," James explained.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to climb through the shutter," Jack advised as they got to the first one and James looked at it appalled not sure how he was going to get through it.

"Can't we just cut through the morgue?"

"The hostile is that way," Jack apologised with his tone. "I will help you get through."

"Jack, if you need to hurry on ahead then go. I am sure this young man will assist me," James advised. Jack guessed he didn't want to be a hindrance or to show how much pain he was in, but he wasn't going to leave him behind.

"I'd rather know you're safe first," Jack commented. "I'm still counting on you to fix the Doctor, I mean, not being inconsiderate or anything, but you'll still be able to won't you?"

"As long as I can stand on both legs I will be able to operate," James advised. "I can't do it if I can't stand, but normally once I've got the brace on its better. It won't let it impact on his treatment or recovery."

"How do you want to do this then?" Jack checked as they got to the first shutter. The hole was about a metre and a half off the ground and while big enough to clamber through it was not big enough for two of them to get through at a time.

"I'm not sure," James admitted.

"How about if I go through first and help from the other side, and, Corporal? If you can ensure he gets through safe?" Jack suggested. He climbed through the hole and then James got his head and shoulders through. Jack hooked his arms to take his weight as James brought his right leg through and then eased his left through carefully afterward. Jack could see he was hurting as he did it, his stiff jaw and faraway look were well rehearsed concentrations against pain.

"Okay?" Jack checked with him as they got to the next shutter, hopping between them. The hole in the next shutter was a little higher, the Harlequin had not conveniently broken through in the same manner each time. Jack went through first again and then James trued to get through. "Come through backward," Jack suggested. "I won't let you drop."

James had to put his trust entirely in Jack as he went through the hole facing away from him. Jack coughed him and the Corporal wrapped his arms around his legs so they could lift him through. It worked quite well and it didn't hurt as much as James feared it was. They didn't drop him, so when they got to the next hole they just decided to do it the same way. The position of the metal that had been ripped through the shutter meant there were sharp edges they had to be careful of. As they went through the corporal turned his legs slightly to clear the jagged metal but the twist was not tolerated and James hollered.

"Easy," Jack warned the Corporal who may have been a bit over keen to get the medic through the hole. Rather than get James to hop to the next shutter Jack just put him over his shoulder. He then did it once they were on the other side and simply carried him over his shoulder straight back to the East Wing. James had started to complain at first about the indignity of being put over the Captain's shoulder, but when they passed through the start of the muster there were dead soldiers lined up ready to be put into body bags and moved into the morgue when it was safe to do so. There was a lot of blood splattered around the hospital wing and there were bullet casings all over the floor and bullet holes in the walls, the windows, the doors. It was like walking through a warzone not their hospital wing. He realised that Jack, as second in command, could not afford the time to wait for him to hop and he appreciated him taking him rather than just leaving him behind.

"Gerald?" Jack announced his return.

"James?"

"Something about his knee?" Jack offered.

"Again?" Gerald confirmed to Jack that it was something they were quite used to having to deal with. He didn't know if it was a comfort or a worry that the specialist had a recurring injury he had not been able to fix correctly.

"Blasted thing has gone again," James advised. "Put me down would you please, Jack?"

"I've got no room," Gerald had all the beds and chairs in the common area occupied by patients that he couldn't shift out.

"Do you need to sit or to lie down?" Jack asked James.

"Sitting will be fine."

"Then as long as you're not mean to him there is a chair through here," Jack took James into the doctor's room where the armchair had not yet been reallocated, but had been moved out the way when the Colonel's bed had been pushed alongside the Doctor's. The space was still vacant indicating that the Colonel remained in surgery.

"I'm not mean," James sighed.

"Oh, doctor, what has happened?" Wilf worried as Jack decanted the medic into the chair straight from over his shoulder. Gerald bought a box so James could put his leg up and he winced as he did so.

"You're injured?" the Doctor asked him.

"An old recurring injury," James confirmed. He saw how the Doctor was looking at all the blood on his clothing. He looked down at himself. His shirt was covered. He had rolled his sleeves up and his skin was covered. It was under his nails and everywhere. It made him feel momentary sick, which was maddening considering he was a surgeon. "The blood is not mine."

"Private Coates? How are we doing?" Jack asked him.

"The death toll has risen to 19," he commented gravely. Jack looked around. There was no sign of the Colonel or Jamie. "Not Mace?"

"No, he remains in surgery with Martha leading," Private Coates advised. "There has been no update yet, but the theatre remains active and guarded."

"Jamie?" James asked.

"They are attempting to stabilise her," Gerald offered. "Yvonne has got her."

"Yvonne," James nodded. "Good." She was an excellent trauma surgeon and would do what she could for Jamie.

"It was Private Roberts who has passed away," Gerald advised. "He is the soldier that you discovered unconscious in the initial hold, Jack," Gerald advised. "Unfortunately he had a massive intracranial bleed and did not make it. It seems likely that was the cause of death, but we will investigate," Gerald advised.

"I'm sorry," Jack commented. He didn't know any of the soldiers that were fighting and dying but it didn't mean he failed to care for them and he didn't like the thought of people dying. "What can we do for you, James?"

"I could do with the brace out of my office."

"I will get someone to get it," Jack confirmed. His office was down toward the morgue and past the theatre so he would be sending two soldiers to go and retrieve it rather than medical staff.

"I have got a brace, a pair of crutches, and a clean shirt in there," James advised.

"You'll want a tracksuit rather than a shirt won't you?" Gerald asked. "We've a full stock moved into here already. It will be easier on your knee with the brace on," Gerald reminded him, though James usually preferred to wear a suit rather than the comfortable legitimate medical attire of a easy to wear medical tracksuit. It was what Martha favoured when she was not out in the field, and Gerald was wearing it. Jack had borrowed a set and the Doctor had one of the T-shirts on.

"Okay, thanks, that might be better," James accepted it would be easier for the first day or so. "Just the brace and my crutches then."

"I will get them brought up."

"How did you get injured? Did you have any contact with the hostile?" the Doctor asked needing as much information as possible about what was going on. Even if the Harlequin was up in the ventilation trying to find a way to inflict further mayhem and death it didn't make sense to him. It didn't make sense for it to run when there were more people in the area. It didn't make sense for it not to have killed the Colonel and all the other soldiers it had come in contact with. It didn't even make sense that any kind of race were trying to transport an adult Harlequin.

"Not directly. A patient of mine was hit directly and she was critically injured by it. I was lost the control in my knee when I was moving a heavy desk and then I was kneeling and unable to move for too long," James advised. "I just think it has put an uneven pressure on my knee which has been replaced twice so is not as forgiving as it could be."

"Why couldn't you move?"

"I had to remain with Jamie. I had to perform an emergency tracheotomy and to plug her hepatic artery that had been lacerated."

"With a pen and a finger," Jack advised.

"There wasn't much else available in the library to use," James defended himself feeling as if he was coming under fire for his unorthodox methods.

"Sounds to me like more medical heroics," Wilf commented.

"Yes, definitely," the Doctor agreed.

"Maybe, if she lives," James commented more gravely. He winced as he ran his finger along the inside of his knee. The Doctor watched him as he felt around his own kneecap and then into the rear of his knee joint and to the front bottom of his knee. He kept a fairly neutral facial expression.

"Do you need to do a scan of your knee?" the Doctor asked him.

"Probably," James admitted. "I can brace it and sort it out later." He stopped feeling around his knee. He didn't think the artificial joint had slid right out. That had happened before and it had been a nightmare. He thought it might have shifted slightly when he had been kneeling so long and then come back as he'd got up again.

Gerald came back in with a tracksuit for James to change in. He thought about where he could go to get changed, but it was clear no one was going to bat an eyelid as he unbuttoned his bloodied shirt in order to put a T-shirt on. He then stood awkwardly to get his trousers off and the tracksuit bottoms on. He could not bend his knee right up. There was dark bruising in the side of his knee coming out and it was visibly swollen compared to his other rather bony looking knee. His left had significant surgical scarring on it. Some that looked very old and some that seemed more recent, probably in the last couple of years. He couldn't put any weight on it though even now he had not been kneeling on it for a while. He sat back down in his pants to put the brace around his leg.

"Do you need a hand with that?" Jack asked him. "Or, perhaps Gerald should have a look."

"It will be fine," James assured them. "But, thank you for your concern. Really, it is something I am quite used to dealing with on my own."

"That doesn't mean you should have to," the Doctor told James. He was more curious about the surgeon who was obstinately refusing to show the pain he was in, but he clearly had a long term recurring injury that he was used to managing and was the kind of thing he'd specialised in treating, yet, when he'd suffered that kind of injury himself why didn't he show more compassion toward his patients, or, was it just him that he did not like?

James fastened the jointed brace around his leg and locked it at a slightly bent angle. He then put his tracksuit bottoms on over the top and sat back down for a moment to gather himself.

"Now, I know that I can't give it to a lot of patients out there as they might need surgery, but, I am sure there will be some of you in here wanting a cup of tea?" Sarah Jane came in with a tray full of cups of tea. The Doctor smiled. He knew she had been out amongst the injured offering them support, but she certainly knew what was needed when it was needed.

"Oh, you are the real life saver here, Miss Smith," James commented and took a cup. He'd have that, compose himself, find out exactly what was going on, and then have to get to work regardless of how his knee was feeling.

"I think I love you," Jack grinned at Sarah Jane as he spooned three sugars into a cup of tea and then took that. Sarah Jane delivered the tea and then took the tray back out to find other things that she could do to support. There were enough people being technical in the Doctor's room and Wilf was looking after him and there were all those poor soldiers that had been hurt and she could hold hands and listen to stories and help them cope. She felt useful.


	29. Chapter 29

"How are you doing with the liquid nitrogen delivery system?" Captain Jack asked the Doctor needing to carry on with the business of what was going on as well as ensuring that all of them had the care they needed.

"We have designed the basic delivery module and Major Starkey has forwarded the design to her team of engineers who are building the prototype as we speak. They have taken one canister of the nitrogen to test it and we have one here as well," the Doctor advised.

"Okay, good, what other updates do we have?" Jack directed the comment to Private Coates.

"The administration building has been confirmed as evacuated and secure. There has been no incursion into the area and no casualties amongst the administration staff. They keep on complaining about if that it was cold and now they have to evacuate into the cold. They were not told why they were evacuation so a panic has not been started," Private Coates arrived. "They have been advised to wait in the main canteen where they are warm and have access to refreshment."

"Is it cold in the admin block?" the Doctor checked.

"Yes, Sir, the ventilation system is linked between the two areas. Because the autopsy lab got too hot the administration block was ventilated to only 16 degrees in an attempt to cool the air down in the autopsy lab as well. Both areas are at below average room temperature now and feel quite cool, not that it really matters now," Private Coates offered.

"Actually, it might really might matter," the Doctor commented. "It is still quite hot in here isn't it?"

"It is rather warm," James agreed. "What are you thinking?" he asked the Doctor. "Why does the temperature matter? I'm not even sure what has fully occurred here?"

"Subject 76584 woke up on the autopsy table. It killed Luke Wilson and Walt Hindon who were conducting the autopsy and then it broke out of the autopsy lab through the bulletproof glass. It is responsible for the holes in the shutters that you had to pass through. It made them with its bare hands so has significant strength. It has also killed and caused significant injury to many of the unit soldiers instructed to attempt to contain the creature. It was shot in the existing head wound and it has bolted. It has gone into the extraction units in the autopsy lab and we have since discovered that is not an isolated system but that it can access all extraction ports and ducts even if not the main ventilation," Private Coates effectively brought James up to date.

"The temperature is significant because we believe it was the cold temperature that kept it dormant and made it appear to be dead," the Doctor advised. "It is entirely positive that it would have been brought out of the dormant state when the autopsy began, however, the activity of the subject would be increased due to the temperature," the Doctor suggested. "If cold adversely affects it then it will not move into areas where it is cold, but may well move along a positive thermal gradient to maintain its own recovering body temperature and level of activity," the Doctor offered. "It is behaving like an exothermic organism and that would predict it would move into an area where it is warm rather than one where it is cold."

"It is in the extraction system not the ventilation system," Major Starkey commented when she saw James was cooling up at the vents in the ceiling of the room. "This is a medical quarantine area," James commented.

"I think we're beyond that now," Wilfred laughed.

"Yes, quite, but, we use it when a real quarantine is required in the case of infectious diseases. We also use these rooms to introduce sterile isolation if we are dealing with a patient with an immune compromised patient," James suggested. "The systems were put in place when the area was refitted as the hospital. I don't know if it is linked into the existing system or whether it is totally new but there are facilities for positive and negative pressure to be applied in here."

"Negative pressure?" Private Coates asked not sure what that meant.

"The room can be sealed and then a small amount of the air is sucked out to create a partial vacuum so that there is natural airflow from the room to another but only in one direction. It means if there was an infectious person in this room that when you opened the door the air outside would be pulled into the room and the infectious agent would remain in here, or, if the person in here had to be isolated and protected then the air would be pumped in to make it a more dense air so that it flows outward when the door is opened," the Doctor explained.

"Is that the same in all of these rooms?" Jack asked.

"Not, just in rooms one and two," James advised.

"And, this is room number one?" the Doctor confirmed.

"Yes."

"And it is hot in here but cold everywhere else?"

"Yes."

"And we don't have a soldier parked under this vent with a gun?"

"No." Major Starkey looked to Jack awaiting for instruction so she could give her orders.

"Get the wounded out of this room and out of room two. Get armed units into this area. Hurry the mechanics with the liquid nitrogen delivery system and get maintenance to blast this area with cold air, we need to bring the temperature down as rapidly as we can. Any blowers or fans that are available get them in here. We do not want that thing coming down into the East Wing, so try and increase the temperature in some of the currently vacant rooms where there are extraction points or ducts."

"Right," Major Starkey nodded as she took in all the things that Jack had said. She went to go out and give the required instructions but was almost bowled over by the member of unit Foxtrot Alpha who had been positioned in the autopsy lab. "Watch it?!" Major Starkey exclaimed as the soldier almost went skidding down onto the floor in order to avoid the commander as she was coming out.

"It is moving!"

"Sorry?"

"It is in the extraction system. It's not coming back down, but it is moving! We heard it move!"

"Where is it moving to?" Major Starkey checked.

"It is quite possible that we are now aware of where it is likely to go and that it has decided to make a pre-emptive strike," the Doctor advised.

"How could it know what we know?" Major Starkey asked.

There was a sound of metal clattering and then a blood curdling scream that was cut far too short. It came from in the adjacent room.

"Fuck! It's here!" Jack grabbed at the canister of liquid nitrogen left in the Doctor's room and bolted out of the room. He burst into the room next door. Two soldiers had been injured and were in beds in there being monitored by a nurse. The soldiers had been killed in their beds, there was an arch or blood up the wall and the nurse who had been keeping them stable was on the floor. Her throat had been ripped out. Her eyes were open and fixed. None of them had stood a chance in the confined area and they'd been killed in a matter of seconds. Jack just saw the legs of the Harlequin as it headed back up into the extraction vent.

"Get back down here you bastard!" Jack screamed at it. He tried to grab hold of its trailing leg to drag it back down but it was too quick. "Come on! Take me!" Jack yelled at the ghost but was ignored by it.

In the Doctor's room the Time Lord tensed and his leg screamed at him as a result, but it was not as loud as the screaming in his head. That was coming down from the vent like the frosted air that had started to flow. The vent was directly above his bed, so when the cover of it smashed down it landed on top of him and made him scream out in pain as it jostled against the wires on the elevating sling holding his leg still. Private Coates and Wilfred both instinctively went to protect the Doctor and to shove his bed out of the way. They rammed into it with such a force that were the brakes were on the bed started to tip.

"Don't!" the Doctor exclaimed. He didn't care about the bed tipping, but he could not let them put their lives in more danger to move him out the way. He grabbed hold of Wilfred and hold of Private Coates and with all of his adrenaline boosted strength he yanked them over the bed with him as the bed tipped right over toward the wall. The canola and drip was ripped out of his arm, but it was nothing. It was so close to the wall that the frame above it buckled and folded and the bed crushed them down into the wall and the floor as it fell over and the mattress followed a little. The Doctor screamed in a raw agony like he never felt. The Doctor screamed and when his breath ran out he gasped and wheezed to fill his burning lungs only to lose it as he screamed again and then again. Wilfred and Private Coates were in a tangle on top of the Doctor and under the mattress where they had all been dropped over the tipping bed.

Jack burst back into the room. The Harlequin ghost had dropped down into the space where the Doctor's bed had been but was now tipped over. It was half on the floor and half on the underside of the bed frame where it was tipped up. The mattress was covering the Doctor, Wilfred, and Private Coates muffling the Doctor's agonised shrieking, but the ghost knew they were there. Major Starkey was pressed against the wall on the far side of the room, unable to move and to get out of there at all, she was hyperventilating as she looked at the strange creature. It was entirely covered in scales and there was no way of knowing who it was looking at or where it was going.

It seemed to stall a little in the middle of the room though. Of all the people who Jack expected to be a hero in a crisis? James Lloyd had to be bottom of the list, yet as Jack ran back into the room he saw James leap onto the Harlequin and try to pin it down. It was heroic, but it was also idiotic. This was a creature that had broken into bulletproof glass with its bare hands, had forced its way through solid steel shutters, and had basically ripped men and women limb from limb with not regard, yet James didn't freeze or back away or try to retreat. He tackled it.

The ghost seemed to be dazed or less active than Jack expected to see it. It flung James off it easily, smashing the medic into the wall and the bench right across the other side of the room so that James crumpled down in a heap on the floor, but the Harlequin did not follow through with the expected attack. Something was wrong with it. Either where it had been shot or something new. It was almost as if it had stalled and was searching but couldn't see clearly. There was a slight iridescence across the scales as if it was being subjected to some kind of energy.

Jack almost stalled himself as he could hear the Doctor's horrific screams coming one after another from behind the bed. It was as if it pricked the back of his mind and he was sure that his leg was breaking as well. The Doctor was in so much pain that he was projecting from him in telepathic waves and while Jack had a very basic ability and it prickled against him, he realised it was that disorientating the Harlequin. The Doctor was in so much pain he was crippling it.

"Stay back!" Jack exclaimed when two soldiers burst into the room with their guns drawn. They couldn't try to shoot it in the room. It was going to be too dangerous. Jack took the lid off the liquid nitrogen canister. They had not come back with the delivery system yet, but there was two ways of doing that. He bowled into the alien and drove it down to the ground, it gave underneath him and Jack poured the nitrogen onto it. Not just aiming for its head but letting the cold liquid pour over it so that the icy gas leapt up as it immediately vaporised. It worked though. The Harlequin let out a telepathic scream and tried to get away from the nitrogen, but it started to slow. Jack wasn't sure that it was actually freezing, but it collapsed down and he was able to pin it.

"Private!" Jack called to Private Coates as he managed to get out from behind the bed and clamber over from it. They had to deal with the Harlequin and then they would deal with the Doctor. "We need to keep it cold and secure!"

"The drawers in the morgue," Private Coates advised. "They're refrigerated."

"Brilliant," Jack agreed. They grabbed the Harlequin between them. It was heavier than it looked. Jack, Private Coates, and the two soldiers all grabbed a bit of it and then ran with it to the morgue as it twisted and fought slowly, but not able to react as it's body temperature was still dropping rapidly with the effect of the nitrogen that had frozen some of the scales on its surface. They were frosted. They shoved it in a morgue drawer and Jack found the controls. He yanked the temperature down as far as he could so that it would take it down to just one degree over freezing. "What is behind these drawers?" Jack asked him. "We need to know what the back of them is, I am not having it break out the back of it if it does come back. Get Major Starkey to get the specifications and ensure that it can't get out the back!" Jack instructed to one of the soldiers and they agreed. "It needs to be a secure line either side. I want full armed units at the rear and at the front of the morgue and I want you to have liquid nitrogen available."

"Yes Sir!" the soldier he was tasking to carry out his instruction acknowledged and went to liaise with Major Starkey. He then hurried back himself knowing that the Harlequin was secure, at least for now, and because he needed to see to the Doctor.

"Is it dead?" Major Starkey asked as Jack went back in.

"I don't know how to tell," Jack admitted. "It is secured in the morgue drawer."

"It would have to get through a steel line in order to get out the back of the drawer and the morgue wall," Major Starkey offered. "It will more likely come out the front."

"Until we can figure out if it is dead or how to kill it we need to keep a guard on either side with liquid nitrogen and we still need that weapon and to work on how to contain it," Jack advised though he was no longer talking to Major Starkey in direct conversation but was taking in the room. He hurried over to the tipped up bed where the Doctor remained in a state of acute distress and continued to cry out and yell though his voice was losing its strength and it sounded like he was sobbing through the exhaustion with it as well. Jack couldn't get behind the bed without moving it and he didn't want to just do that because the Doctor was on the floor on his side.

Wilfred was still down there was well and he was holding the Doctor, trying to support him and keep him still. His leg had been elevated on the sling on the pulley system that was on the frame above the bed but that had been squashed and twisted to nothing as the bed had gone against the wall. The wires were still on the sling that was still around the cast, but the Doctor was on his side, tipped up into the wall so that the weight of the heavy cast was resting on his smashed knee against the wall. They couldn't see what had happened to his leg itself, but based on the unrelenting agony that the Doctor was in they knew that it couldn't be good. "It won't be long, Doc," Jack tried to assure him.

"There you go, Son, I told you Jack would be back soon," Wilf assured the Doctor. "We'll get you righted and back into bed in no time now."

"We'll get you out in a moment, Doc," Jack agreed. He didn't want to do anything that might make him worse. The Doctor wailed and cried out as Wilf just held him. Jack went to James first. He had been thrown against the cupboards and the wall by the Harlequin and was slow to get up, though he was starting to do so. "I'm not sure if jumping on that things was very brave or very stupid," Jack commented as he crouched down beside the medic.

"Stupid, I should think," James commented quietly.

"Take you back to your rugby days, huh" Jack checked. James nodded surprised that Jack had paid that much attention to their conversation earlier. "Has it hurt you more than your knee?"

"Took a good whack to the side, so a few bruises I should think, maybe a cracked rib," James offered and rubbed his side where he'd hit the edge of the counter. "Nothing to worry too much about. We best see to the Doctor hadn't we?"

"I think so," Jack nodded. "Will you be able to advise me on how best to get him out? He's pressed right up between the bed and the wall," Jack offered. He gave James an awkward hand to up. Unable to bear weight on his left leg it was even more difficult as his side was painful as well. He hopped awkwardly over to the side of the bed.

"Doctor? We're going to help you out now," James assured him. "Major Starkey, rather than just standing there, could you go and get Gerald back in here to assist if at all possible," he commented. "I need to unhook all of these wires before we think about doing anything," James commented as he looked at the way they were all tangled through the mangled bed frame and still on the sling hooked around the Doctor's leg. "I will do that while we wait for Gerald." James commented. Three of the four wires were totally slack and easy to remove, but the fourth was tight as it took some of the pressure of his leg. When James unhooked it the Doctor's scream escalated. "I'm sorry, Doctor, it won't be long."

"James?" Gerald came in. "What happened?!"

"We found the point the Harlequin was going to come out," Jack indicated to the busted ceiling vent above. "It's been dealt with. James tackled it and we got it with liquid nitrogen, but his bed tipped. Now we need to sort him out."

"Where is the ghost?"

"It's in the morgue secured in a drawer and under guard," Jack advised. "I don't think it will cause us any more issues."

"We need to get some ketamine into him to do this," James instructed. "I can't move him when he is in this kind of pain. Do you recall the exact dose that Martha gave him?"

"I believe it was 2.8ml," Gerald commented.

"You believe or you know?" James checked with him. "I can't afford to take a risk with him."

"I will go and double check." Gerald turned out of the room to leave the East Wing. He saw two soldiers standing guard on the next door room. When he looked in the two soldiers on the bed had been killed and Maggie Taylor was on the floor. She was dead too. Gerald took a deep breath, there wasn't anything they could do but they still had critically injured people to deal with and the Doctor needed assistance. Gerald left the East Wing trying to remain composed. He ran down to the surgical theatre where Martha had taken Colonel Mace. They had been in there for some time now so Gerald guessed that Dr Carter would be heavily involved with the surgery. He hoped it was going well and that Colonel Mace was stabilised. There were soldiers on guard outside the theatre as well as two positioned inside, with the Harlequin now secured it was probably not necessary but they would maintain a security presence just in case.

Gerald went into the theatre but into the observation area rather than into the sterile zone. He was far from being sterile and he was not dressed for surgery. Martha was working on the Colonel. She had made a long incision across his hip and down his thigh at the side and was trying to repair as much damage as she could. It looked like she had got the orthopaedic tool kit out as well and there was some metalwork ready to be used so it looked like she was going to go straight through and do the stabilisation of his femur fracture as well.

"Doctor Jones?" Gerald called her over. It was not ideal but Martha was at a point where she could leave him for a moment and Dr Carter could carry on with the cleaning of some clotting blood out of the wound in order to close it. "The Harlequin Ghost has been secured in the morgue after being taken out with liquid nitrogen," Gerald advised.

"Oh, that is good news," Martha commented. "I have half been expecting it to drop in onto the table through the ceiling vents," she offered. "Is it secured?"

"Captain Jack has indicated that it is," Gerald confirmed.

"He won't be taking any chances with it," Martha was happier that Jack was on it than she would have been if any of the UNIT team were on it apart from Colonel Mace and he was under her knife.

"Have there been any more casualties?"

"Three more dead," Gerald commented sadly. He could let them know that one of their colleagues had been killed once they had finished operating on the Colonel.

"Where was it apprehended?"

"In quarantine room one."

"Q1? That is the Doctor's room in the East Wing?!"

"It came down through the vent there. It looked like it must have come down into room 2 first, then it came down in room 1. James Lloyd rugby tackled it and then Jack got it with the liquid nitrogen," Gerald offered.

"James has been found then?" Martha wondered if he would come down and assist with the insertion of the femur nail she was preparing to hammer along the length of the Colonel's thigh. She'd assisted James do it a few times now, but had never led with it. It was a fairly straight forward task though and she was confident she could do it. She would be just more confident if James was in there as well.

"His knee has gone again. It looks pretty bad for him, but that was before he rugby tackled the alien. He's asked me to come down here because during the attack the Doctor's bed has tipped over. We need to know how much ketamine we can give him to get him back up and on the bed. At the moment he's kind of wedged between it and the wall and he's certainly not happy," Gerald commented.

"He's got dijalipam in the drip," Martha commented. "He shouldn't really be given any ketamine while he has that in his system. I expect in combination they will make him feel pretty nauseous again and they both run the risk of respiratory suppression at the kind of doses he is needing at the moment," Martha commented.

"We're not going to be able to get him up without giving him something. He is really hurting," Gerald advised. "Is it just the respiration suppression? As long as we are wary of that we can deal with it can't we? If the worst came to the worst we could ventilate him and the ketamine will wear off quickly. It would only be for a short period of time," Gerald offered.

"Okay, but if you have to intubate him then you have to make sure you use the large adult straight miller blade laryngoscope and not the curved Macintosh blade or you're going to damage his throat, and, don't forget that he has a respiratory bypass system so if he does seem to stop breathing but his blood oxygen level doesn't go down then it is just that, don't intubate until his blood oxygen level starts to go down, then as long as you use the straight bladed laryngoscope he will be okay," Martha commented.

"Okay," Gerald nodded.

"And you do it okay, not James, not if he's injured his knee again."

"He's braced it up but he's not putting any weight on it," Gerald commented. "How is the Colonel doing?"

"He had a traumatic femoral aneurism that blew out. We got him in here just in time. He's had seven pints of blood pushed through and his blood pressure is starting to hold again. I've repaired the artery, we had to graft it with a bit of vein and put a stent in but it is holding. So we don't have to risk opening him up without having sight of the artery we're going to continue on and stabilise his hip and femur at the same time. It's going to take another hour or so," Martha commented. "It is a straight forward intramedullary nail and a locking screw up through the neck of his femur into the head. James won't have to worry about this one," Martha advised. "Don't let him do too much if he is hurting," Martha commented. "And he's been rugby tackling aliens?" she checked and shook her head.

"Yeah," Gerald nodded. "I better go back."

"Make sure you return and let me know the Doctor is alright," Martha insisted. "And, if you need to intubate remember…"

"Large adult Miller blade," Gerald offered. "I've got it," he confirmed and then left Martha to get back on with her surgery. Gerald hurried back and went into the pharmacy and picked up the ketamine. He then went into the store and made sure that they he got hold of a straight bladed laryngoscope so that they could intubate the Doctor without damaging his throat if they needed to. He went back in with the kit. "Are you sure we have to give him the ketamine?" Gerald asked. "Martha is worried that it has a respiratory suppressive affect and so does the dijalipam from in his drip. She also thinks it will make him feel unwell and nauseous with them mixed up."

"We can't deal with him unless we can give him some additional pain relief," James advised. "Not when it is going to be protracted. We're going to have to take our time with him. He's in completely the wrong position to be in with a split cast. If it was a quick up and into bed then I'd just go for it, but not when he's like this," James offered.

"We can give him 2.8ml. If he stops breathing we have to wait until his oxygen levels start to go down because he might just have gone into bypass, and then if we have to intubate him we have to use the straight blade," Gerald commented and put the laryngoscope on the side ready just in case. James nodded and Jack looked at the precautions they were taking wide eyed, were they serious about him stopping breathing?!

"Can you get in to give him the drug?" James asked. "There is no way I can get to him until the bed is out the way."

"Yeah." Gerald drew the dose up and then had to put one leg over the bed and lean down to the Doctor. Wilf was holding him. "Wilfred, can you just lift his arm up this way a bit from where you are?" Gerald checked and Wilfred obliged. "Doctor, I'm going to give you a shot now. It's going to make you feel sleepy, like before, okay? Just go with it and allow it to help you relax," Gerald commented. He injected it directly into a vein in the back of the Doctor's hand making sure there was a backwash of blood first. The canola had been ripped out again so they'd have to check he'd not shredded the veins in his arm. His other arm had some nasty looking bruises on it where he'd lost the canola during his nightmare, so the chances were they were not going to match and it was going to look like he had been brutalised.

"The cut on his head is bleeding a bit," Wilfred advised the medic, worried about the Doctor and the way he kept on just screaming. He'd not acknowledged him, but he was hanging onto him so he hoped he was doing some good for him. It just broke his heart to see the man who was so full of life and enthusiasm and who had been so brilliant for his Donna in such a mess. The Doctor was gripping his hand tightly, but as the drugs started to take effect his grip loosened and the blood began to flow back into Wilfred's fingertips. The Doctor's eyes got heavy and started to close as Wilf caressed his head and his cries became less coherent and more subdued.

"Okay, Jack, is there any way you can clamber over the bed and hold the cast on his leg as still as possible to begin with?" James asked. Jack managed to get into position and then Gerald moved the bed back slowly. They had to make sure there was enough space and all the wires were slack and out of the way. The hospital bed was heavy and it had dumped the Doctor over with Private Coates and Wilfred to land on top of him.

"Can I help?" Private Coates asked coming back in. He knew the Doctor had acted to protect him despite everything. He'd been trying to save him from the ghost and had taken the bed over completely to do so and now he was paying for that act.

"Can you get the bed back upright? It will probably take two or three of your to do it because the mechanics underneath the frame are heavy. Then I need you to remove all the framework from above it as that is now useless," James instructed. Coates nodded and got to work.

"You're alright, Doc, we've got you now," Jack assured the Time Lord as he held the Doctor's leg still as the bed was moved back. The Time Lord cried out through the ketamine as the bed no longer held his torso on his side but Jack held his leg still which meant he rotated and twisted slightly.

"Careful," James wanted as he saw the Doctor rock without the bed behind him. "Wilfred, try and keep him on his side for the moment."

"James?" Jack worried as he felt a cool stickiness on his hand when he moved up to get a better grip on the cast from underneath. He looked at his palm and it came back with smears of blood on it. He showed it to James.

"Damn?" James sighed guessing what it meant without seeing it. "Move this bed right out the way now so I can get in please?" he instructed and the bed was dragged on its side across to the other side of the room so that Private Coates could work on getting it upright and getting the mangled metalwork off the top of it. He got a couple of the uninjured soldiers out of the rest room that had been set up so that they could get the bed upright and then he went and found himself a screwdriver and set to work on the bed frame rather than wait to get a maintenance operative down. It was a bit awkward and he almost got hit in the head by a bit of the frame. Major Starkey stepped in to help him do it properly, talking him through proper dismantling techniques that didn't involve braining himself with a cross-bar.

"Okay, very carefully, I need you all to roll him onto his back. Jack, take the weight of his leg please. Gerald, you need to control the roll. Makes sure his arm is out of the way we don't want him to get that all fizzy with pins and needles from lying on it.

"On the count of three then," Gerald instructed. "One, two, three." They rolled the Doctor onto his back.

"Fuck," Jack gasped as they rolled him over and his leg became visible in the cast. He was hoping the blood might have just come from a cut or a graze where the skirting board had dug in but he should have known better.

"No wonder you're hurting son," Wilfred held him with his head in his lap as the Doctor cried out on the drugs as he was rolled back over.

"Now that is a blow," James commented. The pointed end of his upper tibia was protruding a full two inches out of the front of his shin. "A real blow."


	30. Chapter 30

"How are we doing with the bed?" James asked wanting to get the Doctor up from the floor as soon as possible so he could check there was no dirt risking the exposed bone from where he had been turned against the wall and floor. The frame had been removed and Private Coates had taken the time to strip the bed without being asked to do so and was putting a clean sheet on for the Doctor as that had been on the floor as well. James couldn't deal with him on the floor because of his own knee or he would have been down there already, but it would be better for the Doctor to be on the bed anyway. "Right, can we lift him up onto the bed please. His leg remains held by the cast so you can just lift him up as long as the cast is properly supported, try to keep it level and then the pain won't be too bad for him."

Jack eased his arms under the Time Lord. "You're alright, Doc, we're going to pop you back into bed and it will be alright," he assured him. Gerald supported the cast and they carefully put him down into the middle of the bed. James hopped to the side of the bed and got Wilfred to pass him a box of gloves so he could pull two on. He observed the end of the bone sticking up from his leg and the wound it was coming through. The wound was not too ugly looking as the bone end was splintered and quite sharp so it had speared his leg rather than ripped it which would have been more difficult. He carefully touched the end of the broken bone with the intention of seeing how easily it would push back in through the wound, but the moment he was in contact with the bone the Doctor shrieked. "What?" James hadn't expected that kind of reaction from him. He had not moved the bone or applied a pressure to it, he had simply touched it and the pain obviously reached him through the ketamine. James leant down and had a proper look at the bone surface. It was pitted and there threadlike fibres weaving through the actual bone tissues. "Oh?"

"Is there a problem?" Gerald asked.

"Look at this," James indicated toward the fibres. He looked at the end of the bone where it was sheared off and there was a considerable number of the fibres there as well, all linking through the inner area of the bone and across the surface of it, many of them branching out away from the bone and into the soft tissue. "Look at the cross section of the fracture there. Can you see how dense those fibres are in there?"

"They look a bit like nerve fibres," Gerald commented.

"They are," James confirmed. "I'm pretty sure of it."

"What is up?" Jack asked.

"He's got a more extensive nerve supply to the actual bones than in a human. I mean humans have nerves in and around the bone and there is the factor P neurotransmitters and things that cause pain and promote regrowth, but, looking at just this section of the bone that is exposed? The nerve supply to the Doctor's bones is much more significant."

"What does that mean?" Wilfred asked.

"Looking at this structure I would say that in comparative terms the nerve response to the fractures and especially this exposed fracture is going to be significantly more than in a human," James advised.

"It's going to hurt him a lot more than it would hurt a human," Gerald offered in more layman's terms for them to understand what James was saying.

"No wonder he has been in such pain," James commented and rubbed his chin. "Until the fractures are secured he's not going to get the same kind of relief as a human would just from casting, there remains too many exposed nerve endings associated with all of the fractures. I wonder why he's not told us that is a difference."

"He may not know it is a difference," Wilfred offered.

"Okay, in terms of what we need to do now it's not really going to change it," James offered. "Unfortunately it's just going to be more painful for him than if he were a human."

"He does have a greater ability to deal with and manage pain as well," Jack commented as if he were defending the Doctor and his biology that seemed to be somewhat contradictory to him being stronger and more capable than a human.

"I want to get full scans of his leg from hip to toe. I want to see what else has moved," James instructed and Gerald nodded going to sort out the equipment. "We need to clean him up as we can't afford for him to get an infection in the bone, even if he does believe he has a more robust immune system. The question as to whether we stabilise him with an intermediate fixator until the swelling has gone down is no longer a question, but the only course of action we can now reasonably take. The swelling still remains too significant over his knee and ankle to incise those areas, but we can no longer leave these mid-shaft fractures. We will have to return this to position and then stabilise it as an emergency until we can reassess," James advised. "Let's get this dressed and cleaned for now. We can have a look at the scans and see what we're going to do. How are we off for available theatre time?" James checked aware that they were not ideally suited and there were plenty of patients many of whom were going to need surgical intervention. They might not be able to jump the Doctor right up the queue.

"Martha said she would be another hour or so with the Colonel," Gerald confirmed.

"Private Coates? Can you pass me some saline, gauzes, and a pressure dressing?" James asked the young soldier who fetched it for him. "We're going to have to change the cast completely when we've got him in theatre as it's got quite wet with the blood and the padding is soiled. I don't want that to be festering."

"Will that risk the reduction in his ankle and his knee?" Jack checked.

"They are not perfectly aligned at the present time so it will not matter too much as long as they remain in a suitable position for casting. We may be able to achieve a better reduction in his knee while he is completely sedated," James offered. "That looks like it has taken a whack when the bed went over as well," he commented. The swollen dome that used to be the Doctor's knee had a deep line through the oedema where the edge of the skirting board had been pressing into it. "We will do the best we can for him. I still hope the fixator will reduce the pain he has been experiencing, but I can only think that with the nerve density that he has running within his bone tissues that fractures are significantly more painful for him than they are for a human and that pain is likely to be a major factor until he is healed, certainly until initial calluses are formed."

"Are you going to put that bit of bone back into his leg again?" Private Coates asked. He couldn't help looking at it. It was disgusting and it was horrible but it was fascinating all at the same time. It was not broken straight across it, but it was splintered and it was snapped at an angle so it was pointed and sharp. He could see the bone was white on the outside but there was a reddish browny pulp in the middle of it. It was poking right up out of his leg and there was a bulge under where it came out and there was a deep hole in his leg, but it was bleeding loads and loads. It was bloody and there was a little bit running down from the edge of the wound but it wasn't pumping blood or anything even if it had to be going right down to the bone because the bone was sticking out of it.

"Once I have got the scans I can have a look at whether we will try to do that quickly now or have to wait for surgery," James commented. Jack brought the scanner over from Gerald so James did not have to move. He took the scan of the open fracture initially and had a look at it. The fragment of tibia that had been causing the most nerve pain had shifted as well. It had come up underneath the bit of bone protruding from his leg so there wasn't any room for the bone to be eased back in straight away. They'd have to do it in surgery.

James looked at the scan. "We'll not do that just now," he offered. "We need to get the cast right off in order to manipulate the fragment out the way for an easy return. So, let's clean and sterilise the wound, we can pack it and dress it. As soon as Doctor Jones is available and we have some theatre time we will get him in and sort this out. I'm loathe to do too much to him without being able to give him a full general anaesthetic, not now we have discovered the extent of the nerve system and it is open. We will be able to get some access to the fragments through the wound," James advised.

He used gauzes to clean some of the blood from the skin on the Doctor's leg and then put a pad under it to protect the mattress and he flushed out the wound in his leg with saline. He took a photograph of the open injury and pinged it to attach to the new scans. The Doctor moaned quietly as he wiped some blood away again. He soaked some bits of gauze in sterile salt water from clear tubes and then gently pressed them actually into the open area of the wound of the Doctor's leg. The Doctor didn't seem to mind that too much with the ketamine, but when James carefully wrapped some more sterile soaked gauzes around the bone end the Time Lord screamed.

"You're okay, son, they're just looking after your leg for you," Wilfred assured him. He tried not to watch what they were doing as he felt a little sickened by it all. He packed around the protruding bone with more gauzes, putting wet ones next to the skin and then dried ones on top to build it up. He then put a thick pad over the top of it all. He covered that with a clear plastic sheet that stuck to the skin either side of it and then to all the dressings to keep it sealed and air tight to protect against infection, and then he taped it all to the cast to keep it all together.

"That will keep him secure until we can get him into surgery, it will protect him for a few hours if needs be, but I'd hope to get him in there before then," James advised. "Let's get the other scans sorted. Hopefully there isn't anything we need to do an immediate intervention on. As long as everything is reasonable we can wait until he is in theatre." James took and then checked the scans. It was not good, but it was not so bad that he needed to start pulling him round to get blood flow going and save his leg. He checked the pulses in his foot and ensured the capillary refill in his toes remained good. It all was. James tested the tightness of the cast around his knee. It had definitely hit the skirting because there was still a line through the fluid. When James gently pressed either side of his knee to see how much room there was in the cast the Doctor cried out. James checked the drain in his knee. It was still producing and wasn't blocked. That was about all he could do.

"Okay, Doctor," James acknowledged. "That is it for now," he assured him, but he was still totally out of it on the ketamine. "Let's just turn the oxygen up a bit for him should we?" James commented. They had put the mask on him with a 50% flow but his oxygen levels had dropped a little. They turned the oxygen up. While he was not being tended to the Doctor was under the influence of two powerful drugs and without the pain to bring him out of it he was breathing in long and deep sighs. It was not the most effective of breathing patterns and indication that his breathing was being suppressed. It was not dangerously so, but they would have to keep an eye on it.

"Is there anything more you can do for him now?" Jack asked James.

"No, he needs to be monitored for his breathing rate, but until a theatre becomes available and Doctor Jones is back there isn't much I can do. I'd not be comfortable taking him into surgery without Doctor Jones. Looking at him you'd not think he was an alien would you? I mean that Harlequin ghost was very obviously alien, but the Doctor? He looks quite…"

"He will be extremely annoyed if you say he looks human," Jack warned James as he gently caressed the Doctor's head. "We look like Time Lord's," he offered quietly. "Isn't that right, Doc?"

"How long have you known him?" James asked Jack seeing how tender the Captain was toward the Time Lord yet how efficient and authoritative he had been as Major Starkey's number two and how forceful he'd been in containing the ghost.

"A couple of thousand years give or take a century," Jack offered. James laughed but then winced covering his battered side as if it were a joke, but Wilfred didn't question it. It was probably very true.

"If there is nothing more you can do for the Doctor right now then you should probably get yourself checked out," Jack suggested to James.

"I'm fine," James insisted, but he gratefully sank into the chair as indicated by Jack. His knee was pounding heavily in the brace and his side was aching and hurt a little if he took in a deep breath. It wasn't anything to worry about. It actually felt like he'd had a good hard game of rugby, not that he had done for over twenty five years, but it was that kind of solid hurt in his side that made him know he was living. His knee on the other hand was the aching, throbbing, mass of pain that reminded him of the reason why rugby was no longer a part of his life and short of his work he never really got started living.

"Oh no, what happened?" Sarah Jane asked as she came back into the room to find out if they needed anything. She had only popped out this time to get rid of the tea cups so they weren't cluttering up the place and she had got caught up with a soldier who was having some kind of seizure and then had been unable to leave. Now she was back in the Doctor's room and something had happened because he seemed to be asleep and he had a full oxygen mask on. He'd not let them do that unless he wasn't really aware of it. There looked like there was a new padding or something right across the front of his shin.

"The bone came out of his leg!" Private Coates advised her. "He saved me and Wilf from the Harlequin when it came through the vent, but his bed tipped and he fell on the floor, and the bone came out of his leg!"

"That about covers it," Jack offered. "Where have you been, Sarah?"

"I got caught up with a young soldier with a head injury," she commented. "They have had to put him in a coma and on a ventilator to try to give him a chance," Sarah Jane advised. "He was having seizures and they're pretty worried about him."

"Who is it?" Private Coates asked. He was worried. Sarah Jane had specifically said that it was a young soldier and, while a lot of them might have been young to her, if he was specifically young then it might have been one of his unit. He'd been worried about all of them. Not many of them would have been involved in the actual battling with the Harlequin because they weren't really supposed to be on the front line, but if it was one of his friends that had been hurt? If he was having seizures and they had put him in a coma and on a ventilator then sounded pretty bad didn't it? His unit was his family. He had no one else since his brother had been killed by the daleks. UNIT was his home and his peers were his family.

"I'm not sure of his name," Sarah Jane admitted. "They were just using a nickname when they were trying to get through to him. They kept on calling him Blue."

"Blue Rigsby?" Private Coates seemed to pale as he gulped. He looked to the Captain as if seeking permission to leave the Doctor's room. He'd not been given any other orders.

"Go on," Jack nodded his consent. "But, I want another full report on the current situation in 30 minutes," he instructed. That gave the Private both some time to go and find out about someone he obviously cared about judging by his reaction, but also a job to do so that he didn't have the chance to get dragged down. The aftermath was going to be very difficult as they came to terms not only with their friends and peers who had been killed, but also those that had been injured. By the sounds of it some had life changing injuries and were unlikely to recover fully. That was going to be hard on them and also on those that knew them.

There were others who would recover from their injuries but be restricted in the meantime and for lively young men and women that would be hard, and, sometimes Jack had discovered over the centuries that those that had not been injured at all had the hardest of times dealing with things. Survivor's guilt was not just a term to be bandied around by psychoanalysts. It was very real. He looked down on the Doctor, if there was a person that carried more survivor guilt around with him than the Doctor he did not know him.

"Right," Jack stood up a little straighter though he did not take his hand off the Doctor's shoulder. He seemed to be sleeping reasonably comfortably with the ketamine and his breathing was solid. "Major," Captain Jack addressed her directly. "While we wait for Private Coates to come back with a report, may I suggest that you and I develop a clean-up strategy? While I think the East Wing has served us well, judging by the number of soldiers wounded, I think that Doctor Jones would appreciate having her hospital back in a functioning order sooner rather than later. Two to a bed is not going to wash for long."

Jack was just about to leave with Major Starkey so that their discussions would not disturb the Doctor while he slept when a man in a blue boiler suit came running into the room. "Jo! We did it!" He advised.

"Shush, man." Jack frowned at him and indicated towards the Doctor.

"Sorry, but we've done it." He thrust a device towards Major Starkey. "It's good to three metres! We can even fit a sight to it and it will fire it at a speed of 130 metres a second in a single jet, or, you can adjust the setting to spray the target at a distance of 1.5m."

"That's for the liquid nitrogen, right?" Jack checked with him.

"Yes, it's all ready to go!"

"You're a bit late, Max," Major Starkey commented and glanced at the Captain. They both laughed.

"Bloody engineers, huh?" Captain Jack teased Major Starkey. "I'm sure it is wonderful, and, we'll definitely keep it on hand just in case it is needed, and, perhaps you could make a second one?" Jack asked him. "We can give one to each of the unit leads that are guarding the morgue drawer."

"You're guarding the morgue?" the engineer asked and Jack nodded. "When they said it was a ghost?" he commented looking a bit worried. "Is it really a ghost?!"

"No, it's not really a ghost, Neville," Major Starkey advised and added confidently. "There is no such thing as ghosts." Jack decided it was probably best not to contradict her.

Jack and Major Starkey got a report almost straight away from Private Coates. He gave them all the information they needed and probably more than they expected, but he hadn't given it with the same kind of enthusiasm as he had his first report. He'd managed to find out where Blue was but a big bosomed nurse had chased him out of there almost as soon as he'd gone into the room that Blue was in. All of Blue's head and face were covered in bandages. He had been able to see some blood soaking into them at the side of his face, but there as pads under the bandages covering his eyes.

He had a tube going down his throat that was taped to the side of his mouth and that was attached to a machine with a contained bellows that was wheezing in time with his chest going up and down. They had monitors all around him. His pulse, his heart rate, and the cardiogram were all on display and although he didn't know exactly what things should be he could tell that Blue was pretty sick. He had tried to ask the nurse what was going on, but she had refused to say more than they were contacting his next of kin.

There were two beds in the room that Blue was in. The other be was occupied by a soldier he recognised as Stewart Meeks. He was a Corporal but in the tactical division and he lived with his wife and young family off base so Private Coates didn't know him that well. He was lying flat on the bed and had a tube going down his throat and various drips and things like Blue did. Janette, the big bosomed nurse, was charged solely with monitoring the immediate needs of those two patients and two in an adjacent cubicle in their makeshift critical care unit.

As Janette chased Private Coates out of the room one of the doctors went in. Again it wasn't someone that Private Coates knew. He didn't even know his name. He overheard him saying something about brain injuries, head injuries, facial injuries, and a total loss of sight. He knew they were talking about Blue. They were saying he was going to end up blind. Blue was excited because his girlfriend was pregnant with their first baby. He'd taken leave only that week and gone to a scan with her and that had revealed they were having a son. He had spent hours and hours looking and studying the grainy image of his unborn son on the scan photograph. Now he was never going to see him? All because of some alien thing found in the back of a spaceship?

Private Coates had felt like crying for him, but he had a report to gather for Jack and Major Starkey. He wasn't allowed to know what he knew because he shouldn't have eavesdropped on the conversation. He gathered all the information, but he felt suddenly incredibly tired and worn out.

"Ethan, son, when did you take five minutes?" Wilfred asked him kindly when he came back in to the room. "How about you have a seat and a cup of tea, lad?"

"I'll make you tea if you want, Sir?" Private Coates assumed that he was being given a hint.

"No, Ethan, come in and sit for five minutes. You've not stopped and the crisis is now in a lull. You need to take five minutes when you can, lad, you don't know if it will all kick off again. You need to be fresh, keeping going until you drop is not an option," Wilfred advised him. "You've been running on adrenaline since the start of this, son, and the longer that goes on the harder and faster you're going to come down from it and it will hit you with all kinds of discomforts. Sit down there for five minutes and I will go and make your tea," Wilfred offered. "Keep an eye on the Doctor though, lad? He's just sleeping right now but he might wake up soon."

Private Coates wasn't quite sure if he should sit down or not. There had to be more work to do. Captain Jack had heard what Wilfred had said. He had already gathered that he was friends with the young soldier that had been hurt, possibly killed, and it was his first action, within UNIT anyway. He'd already told of how he had lost family during the dalek invasion.

"If you need to go and get some air then you should," Jack advised him before Wilf returned with the tea.

"There is clean up to sort, Sir."

"Yes, there is, we need to get the hospital wing back up and running properly, but, there are enough men and women here on standby who have not already been involved in the defensive in order to do that, so, if you want to go and get some air and take some time then now is the best time to do it. You have worked tremendously hard this morning and with a wisdom way beyond your years and experience, but with experience comes the knowledge that it is alright to feel things and it is alright to admit that you need to take five when the shit is no longer hitting the fan that is when you can," Jack explained to him. "I am sure you're Colonel will tell you the same thing. You have impressed a lot of people here today, and I know that was not your motive, but it will still stand you well. What you also need to be able to do in order to succeed is to be able to let it go."

"Let what go?"

"All that shock and horror and rage and hurt and fear." Jack put his hand on his chest. "It's all going to build up in here unless you let it go. It is inconceivable that something like this can happen when you all think you're safe in your own base and now people are dead and others are going to be hurt beyond full recoveries and others are going to take a very long time to heal. Those people are your colleagues and your friends Private, and more than that, they are your family. If you don't learn to let it go then you'll turn into one of those soldiers that are so screwed up by what they have endured that their life beyond the military is impossible, so, you need to let it go."

"How?"

"Everybody finds a different way to do it."

"How do you do it?" Private Coates asked Jack directly.

"Me? Oh, you'd not want to do what I do," Jack offered and smiled wistfully.

"What did you do though?"

"I drank, I fought, I had too much sex with the wrong people. I ended up in all kinds of trouble and then ended up on the run from the very agency I'd dedicated my life to. I made plenty of mistakes and I tricked and conned my way through life. I was a very guilty and very angry," Jack advised candidly. "But drugs, alcohol, sex, fights, and cons is a never ending circle that just sucks you down and makes you feel that bit worse each time you get spat out," Jack advised.

"Forgive me for overhearing," James commented. Jack was under no illusion that they were having a private conversation since Major Starkey, Wilfred, and James were all also in there. The Doctor was too but he remained asleep beneath the level of sedation provided by the ketamine though they didn't expect that to last long and they were all concerned about how he would respond to the complication in his injury and whether he'd be able to deal with the agony caused by the nerves in his exposed bone. "How did you turn yourself from that to this?" James asked Jack.

"Oh, that one is easy." Jack smiled. "Him." He pointed at the Doctor.

"And now he is hurt more as well," Private Coates offered and Jack nodded. "Are you going to go on a bender?"

"Not today," Jack commented. "Because, if I did, then what would he think?" Jack asked Private Coates.

"He will recover," James assured Jack and Private Coates. "It is not going to be easy and while the complication of the opening of the fracture will be initially difficult to manage, providing we protect him from infection, he will not have any long term detriment from it. I was working on his injury in the library before, well, before all of this. I am confident we will be able to adapt the fixation processes in order to be able to get a good union and stability in all aspects of his injury, not just the bony injuries but the soft tissue damage that has been done too. I remain confident even now, and when Martha returns from surgery we will look at taking scheduling him in for surgery. I can't promise that he will be next in because of the other injuries received, but we will deal with him. We just need to keep an eye on his breathing rate and oxygen saturation while he is on the ketamine because of the other drugs, but we know how quickly he metabolises them. I expect him to start to wake in the next ten to fifteen minutes."

"How much pain is he going to be in?" Jack asked. "Is it going to feel worse for him now?"

"Quite possibly," James confirmed. "I am concerned about the level of pain he has been experiencing. I am hoping that wrapping and covering the exposed bone will minimise the pain, but with nerves threaded as densely through the bone tissues I think there will be a significant difference in the way he perceives a comparable injury to the way a human would. I will have to see if I can investigate that aspect of it with him and perhaps explore it with him if he is able once he is awake. He will need to go into surgery in the next few hours, so, when he does wake up what he won't be able to do is drink tea."

"Oh, not only do you hurt him and dislike him but now you're denying him his life blood tea too?" Jack teased though there was a serious underline there as well in the humoured accusation.

"I don't dislike him," James confirmed. "I have no personal involvement with him more than him being my patient, but I do not dislike him."

"The Doctor comes across as being arrogant and brash and of being a bit of a git," Jack commented. "But, he is the most tactile of men, especially now in this body. He is always holding hands and hugging and he needs that contact to feel secure. He gains assurance through physical contact," Jack suggested quietly hoping that James would modify his behaviour a bit more toward him.

"And, I am sure he will get all of the physical contact he needs from his very good friends he has here with him," James remarked.

"Captain?" Major Starkey came back into the room having received an update from control. "We need to devise the clean-up strategy."

"Yes, quite," Jack agreed.

"How do you think we should go about restoring the area?"

"We need to maintain a buffer zone around the morgue. While we are unsure about the condition of the Harlequin we maintain a perimeter around there, but, we can move further toward it now. We need to keep that room as cold as possible, if we can get some portable air coolers in there too? We do not want to occupy any room adjacent to the morgue," Jack advised.

"What are we going to do with the dead?" Major Starkey asked the question.

"They can be placed in body bags and taken into the morgue one at a time. We can put them in the drawers and mark them up, but the unit in there. Foxtrot Alpha, they should then be relieved and changed over. If it is going to be cold in there we need to ensure the guard are kitted out in cold weather gear and the unit should be rotated every sixty minutes. Not only because of the temperature I am hoping to achieve, but the psychological impact of standing guard in the morgue. Especially when their colleagues are also going to be in there. I don't want any soldiers less than 25 years of age on the morgue duty. No one who has not seen any action yet, no one who has seen action today, and no one who is known close friends with any of the soldiers that are going to be transferred into the morgue," Jack offered. "The morgue has an unusual ability to plan on the mind, so, we need to monitor and rotate those on duty there. Are you going to be able to cater for those requirements and provide four full patrols? Two on stand by and two on active guard duty."

"I believe so," Major Starkey confirmed. "Do we have a current list of the dead?"

"That should be readily available at this point," Jack advised. Private Coates nipped out to go and get it.

"We can ensure that no one with close ties with anyone on the list of the dead is involved in the guard duty."

"Good, then that is my recommendation, Ma'am," Jack offered.

"Okay, very well, and what do you recommend with regards the physical establishment and handover of interim areas back to hospital use?" Major Starkey checked with him.

"Once the units have been allocated to the morgue we need to get a maintenance crew down here and a clean-up crew. Do you have a specific deep clean team?"

"Yes, of course, they are part of my usual detail."

"Then, you need to give them the task of working with maintenance to ensure that the rooms along the corridor down toward the combination locked door leading toward the morgue but not past there in any circumstances have any damage repaired, are cleaned, and are ready to go again. They should be checked for damage, but the Harlequin did not come down to the ground in those rooms as far as we know, there should be minimal damage as there has been no engagement. They should work from here down the corridor so we will expand our hold down the corridor, moving the barricade and a unit ahead of the clean-up crew so that we reclaim the hospital for the medical teams."

"We can go to just past surgical theatre three, beyond there it is only offices," James commented. "And, that will give you a secure line and a buffer zone of three rooms either side of the corridor. All the critical care areas that we will need access to and the two main wards and between here and there so we will have most of what we need. Pathology is going to be longer to come by isn't it?" he asked Jack.

"Yeah, it's going to be a while," Jack confirmed.

"Control to Greyhound 2," a voice crackled over the radio net. "Control to Greyhound 2, are you receiving?"

"That is you, Major," Jack reminded her and nodded to her radio.

"Yes, right, I'm normally 47."

"And you don't look a day more than 35?" Jack countered instinctively.

"Oh, that is too much," James groaned.

"Greyhound 2 receiving."

"Your nearest land line figures for contact?"

"That is figures…"

"31294," James looked at the extension number on the board.

"That is medical figure 4, over," Major Starkey confirmed.

"Figure received, call coming through, control out."

The phone started to ring a couple of seconds later and Major Starkey went to answer it. "Major Starkey."

"It's Private Nichols on the gate ma'am. I am sorry for the intrusion during an alert, however, we have an incident here."

"Report."

"Yes Ma'am, we have a civilian on site Ma'am. He states that he is expected and he will not stand down. He says that it is urgent and that if there is an alert going on then it's even more urgent. He has come here to liaise with Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood and the Doctor. He says he works for Torchwood and he does have a Torchwood ID. He says he has an urgent delivery to make and he is unable just to leave it here."

"What is his name?"

"Michael Smith. He is creating quite a scene out here ma'am and is refusing to stand down."

"Standby." Major Starkey hit the silence button on the phone and then looked to Captain Jack. "There is a Michael Smith at the gate refusing to leave despite the alert. He says he is expected and that he is here to see you?"

"Ah, Mickey Mouse," Jack nodded. "Get him escorted over here."

"Another civilian?" Major Starkey asked.

"A further Torchwood Liaison, and, forgive me ma'am, you still need all the help you can get at the moment and Mickey is a good man to have, though, if you ever tell him I have said that I will be rather uncooperative," Jack commented. "He has brought a bit of kit with him, some significant technology, and I need it. I asked him to bring it here and he has done so, driving all the way from Cardiff. He won't leave without getting it to me because he knows how important it is."

"Very well," Major Starkey nodded. She took the phone back off silent. "Have Mr Smith escorted to the East Wing along with the technology he has brought for Captain Harkness. He is here as a representative of Torchwood and a liaison."

"Yes Ma'am," the gate officer sounded a bit put out by it as he'd been trying to maintain security and now it was being breached again. Having dealt with the Captain twice and this new Torchwood liaison it appeared that being cocky was a prerequisite to work at Torchwood.


	31. Chapter 31

It was ten minutes before Mickey was escorted into the UNIT East Wing. When he was denied access to the base he thought there might be some kind of minor incident going on, but when he was escorted over there by two armed guards and he saw the regular patrols including dog handlers he realised that there was something more serious going on. He tried to ask the guards who were escorting him at a quick march pace into the East Wing what was happening, but not only did they fail to answer the question they failed to acknowledge that he'd even asked it! He passed through a hold point and into the rear entrance of the medical wing. There was dogs positioned at regular intervals around the building and the patrols seemed to be focusing on there. There were also units of soldiers camped out nearby and they had a standing post where they could get drinks and hot dogs so he knew there was something happening and they were waiting for instruction and orders. Mickey knew that the Doctor was in there and he knew that the Time Lord could seemingly generate trouble at the drop of the hat, but if he'd bust his leg and he was still managing to cause chaos in there then that was truly incredible.

"Mickey! Am I glad to see you?!" Jack exclaimed when he was escorted into the medical unit and delivered to stand in front of Major Starkey.

"What is going on?" Mickey asked the Captain directly. "No one would let me in and then they'd not tell me why and, what are you wearing?!" He indicated to the UNIT logos on the clothing Jack was dressed in. Gone was the slacks, shirt and braces, and military coat in favour of combat trousers and a white UNIT T-shirt. He assumed that Jack had deliberately chosen one that was a couple of sizes too small so stretched over his torso. "Have you defected?" He asked, but then he looked past Jack and toward the bed where the Doctor was lying. He had an oxygen mask on now and he was as white as the T-shirt Jack was wearing. His eyes were closed and he had monitors attached to him and a long cast on his leg that had blood on it and appeared to have additional dressings on too. His leg was propped up on a couple of pillows. There was a drip going into his arm and a sheet loosely over him. He was wearing one of the white T-shirts as well, but Mickey was no longer concerned by their attire.

"Wow? He looks awful," Mickey commented with an unmistakable concern in his voice as he approached the bed. He reached out and gentle touched the Doctor's shoulder. "Is he okay?"

"He's not doing so well at the moment," Jack advised. "As soon as Martha is free he needs to go into surgery."

"Where is Martha?" Mickey asked.

"She's already in surgery, performing it, not having it," Jack added quickly in case Mickey got the wrong end of the stick. "There has been an incident here."

"Did he cause it then?" Mickey asked teasing the Doctor slightly even though he remained unconscious on the ketamine.

"No, of course not."

"You then?" Mickey checked with the Captain.

"No, this one seems to be all of UNIT's own creation," Jack commented. "And, as a Torchwood liaison you're going to have to behave," Jack warned him quietly.

"A Torchwood what?" Micky asked.

"Liaison," Jack insisted. "The alert has not yet been stood down through we believe that the hostile has now been contained."

"Hostile?"

"Ma'am," Jack turned to Major Starkey. "Permission to update my number two?" Jack asked formally. Mickey received a glance from Jack telling him not to question him, not to dispute being his number two, and under no circumstances ever to tell Gwen Cooper that he'd said that Mickey Mouse was his number two.

"Permission granted."

"Three days ago a spacecraft crashed in the Andes," Jack advised.

"We picked up the blip," Mickey confirmed. "UNIT were in attendance from the Peruvian office, but there has been no significant finds."

"Well, I think we need to improve somewhat," Jack offered. "There was a find that was transferred here. Located in the vessel there was an alien that they believed was dead. It was transported here for Martha to autopsy. They still do not know the origins of the spacecraft or the whereabouts of the crew, though with what the Doctor has identified as a Harlequin Ghost I would not be surprised if the crew simply abandoned ship and legged it," Jack commented. "They started to do the autopsy on the creature this morning. Martha was going to do it yesterday, but the Doctor arrived with his leg injury. I will update you on that in a while, but it's really bad Mick." Jack sighed his own level of concern that was only ever reserved for the Time Lord. Mickey had received a warning from Gwen to make sure that Jack didn't get too upset again when with the Doctor, but Mickey guessed it would already be too late for that. "Martha didn't start the autopsy, but it was delayed until today because she has had to stay with the Doctor. He's had a really hard time over night, but it is going to be even worse now."

""What happened in the autopsy, Jack?" Mickey asked aware that he was easily going to be side tracked.

"The Harlequin Ghost was not dead, just dormant. It woke up and it killed the two guys doing the autopsy, and then it ran amok. It has killed and hurt everyone it came across. I think the most recent count is 22 dead and there is over 30 wounded. Some of them very seriously. Martha is currently operating on Colonel Mace. He's in a pretty bad way too. We have the Harlequin contained now. We have cooled it back down with liquid nitrogen and it's in a refrigerated drawer in the morgue under guard, but we don't know if it is dead or just dormant again. We're not even sure how to tell."

"Glowing…" the Doctor moaned softly as he moved his hand to take the mask off. Why did they keep on insisting they put a mask on him? He didn't like it. It made him feel strange. It made him feel breathless and dizzy and dopey, very dopey, but it was glowing and that was how it would tell.

"Sorry, Doctor? What did you say?" Jack went to him. "Leave that for now," he suggested taking his hand away from the mask so that it stayed to cover his nose and mouth. His breathing had been a bit dodgy with all the drugs they had given him.

"Makes me… feel out… of breath… and dizzy," the Doctor complained and raised his other hand stubbornly to take the oxygen mask off.

"What? The oxygen mask?" Jack asked.

"Yeah…"

"Do you not think that it might be the other way round?" Jack checked with him and caressed his head before making sure the mask stayed in place by taking his other hand as well. "Don't you think that because you're feeling a bit breathless and dizzy that it might be the reason why we need to leave the mask where it is?"

"No…"

"Oh, okay, is that Time Lord logic?"

"Yeah…"

"I still think you should leave it where it is for now, Doc," Jack suggested. The Doctor didn't have the energy or the strength or really the will to argue with Jack and he just sagged back a bit. "What did you say before?"

"Before… when?"

"Do you know how we can tell if the Harlequin is dead or not?" Jack asked him directly. The Doctor thought for a moment but then he winced slightly. He grimaced and then groaned. "Okay." Jack sighed not sure if any information they got from him was going to be worth considering when he was still drugged up so much he was barely awake. He was obviously in a lot of pain still. "Have you seen who is here to help?" Jack offered. Mickey felt awkward in the room as the Doctor was clearly in a bad way. He'd never imagined seeing him so bad again, not since he changed his face and then promptly collapsed, but that was different. He didn't really care that much about him then. Back then all he had done was take Rose away from him, get him accused of murdering his ex-girlfriend, and then made him feel like he was worthless all the time. It was different now. Apart from anything they had both lost Rose. He did care about the man for who he was and well, it was worse, because he was properly hurt not just sick with some strange alien face changing thing.

"What's up, Boss?" Mickey acknowledged him positively not wanting to sound as sick with worry as he felt to see him like that.

"Mickey… Mick… Mick…" the Doctor sounded like he was drifting back to sleep again. Jack let go of one of his hands as his eyes closed a little and he stroked his head, hoping he would get back off to sleep. When the drugs wore off some more he was going to be in pain. For now the cowboys were off in the distance rounding up the steers and herding them across the plains to bring them back to the ranch. It would not be long until the hundreds of hooves were pounding on their homelands, but for now they were only just visible in the distance as an ominous dust cloud.

"Go back to sleep, Doc. Everything is under control," Jack assured him.

"It does… glow," the Doctor groaned as he drifted back off. Jack caressed his head for a few seconds more, letting his hand linger and wishing all the while that the Doctor would let him care for him, love him, and look after him properly while he recovered but fairly sure that he wouldn't and that he'd keep on trying and keep on ending up feeling heart broken and rejected as he'd watch him struggle with the effects of the injury.

"When you said he'd broken his leg on the phone you didn't say he was as bad as this," Mickey commented. He wasn't part of the contingent that expected him to be up and running round regardless of the injury. Jack had told him it was hurting him and he needed some different pain killers which was why he wanted the wrist computer so he could go off and get the drugs for him. He had just thought he was being a stubborn Time Lord and that the drugs weren't working for him and that he was suffering the pain of a normal broken leg, but this didn't seem much like a normal broken leg to him.

"There was an incident with the Harlequin and his bed got tipped up causing the break to open and the bone to come out through the skin. That only happened in the last half hour. He's had a shot of ketamine in order to get him back up on the bed," Jack explained. "But even before that he was bad. It's not just a straight forward break. You know when he does something he's is going to go and do it properly."

"Yeah," Mickey confirmed. "So what has he done?"

"He's got fifteen breaks in his leg and has a dislocated knee and a dislocated ankle. He's screwed it right up and he's awkward because they can't just fix it like they normally would. He's been screaming and crying with it, he's in a bit of a state. I've never seen him in pain like it, not even when I thought he was going to regenerate after getting shot by that dalek," Jack admitted. "Once the alert is stood down I will try to get the wrist computer set up to go and get some drugs from off world that will suit his biology more or he is going to be in too much pain for too long."

"It may be longer than we expecting having discovered the extent of the neural tissue running through his skeleton," James added. "I will need to discuss that with him when he is able."

"Ah, Mickey, this is James," Jack commented. "He's the Doctor's doctor. James, this is Mickey Smith, my colleague from Torchwood."

"Nice to meet you," Mickey shook his hand.

"Likewise," James acknowledged without getting up.

"Is Martha not treating him though?"

"Yeah, she is, but James is an orthopaedic specialist so he will be looking after the Doctor's leg, while Martha and all of us are tasked with looking after the rest of him," Jack advised. James smiled slightly pleased that Jack had finally got it.

"So, this ghost then? What is that?" Mickey asked seriously wondering if they were going to need him to be involved with it.

"It has been contained now and we're about to start clean up, but we don't know if it is dead or not."

"Isn't that kind of the point of a ghost?" Mickey asked.

"It seems like it, they were starting to autopsy it when it started to kill," Jack offered. "It is brutal and it is strong and fast. We don't want it out again. If it isn't dead and it does wake up, I doubt the morgue drawer will hold it for long at all."

"The Doctor said that it glows, didn't he?" Wilfred commented.

"I am not sure we can rely on anything he says until the drugs wear off a bit more," James commented. "He has ketamine and dijalipam in his system. It could be critically important, but it also may be nonsense."

"I agree with you, Sir, but didn't the initial pre-autopsy report that Martha did say that it glows when it was X-rayed?" Wilfred checked.

"Yes, it is iridescent," Jack agreed.

"May it is only does when it is alive? I mean is that possible? If the people that use that alien thing as a weapon can't go down onto the planet while they are still alive and they can't scan for them because they fool the sensors then maybe when it dies it doesn't fool the sensors so it doesn't glow and when it is dead it stops being a ghost?"

"So, it is a ghost when it lives and is not when it dies?" James questioned.

"A bit backward, I know."

"This is UNIT that is pretty standard," James commented in the kind of way that Jack may have done about Torchwood. It seemed they all had their share of strangeness in their lives.

"If the reaction within incident energies takes place in the scales as some kind of biochemical change in the cells then it may lost that ability when the creature is dead," Gerald offered a scientific side to the suggestion.

"Do we have the scale that the Colonel found?" Jack asked. "Could we get that X-rayed and see if it glows or not?"

"Good idea," James added. "If it does not then we can assume that the alien has to be alive to be the ghost and we can then go and X-ray it again. If it does not glow it is confirmed dead?" James asked and then looked at the Doctor. "He's pretty something to be able to think of that with all that is going on isn't he?"

"We think so," Jack nodded.

"I would still suggest that we wait until the Doctor is more coherent," James offered. "For all we know Luke and Walt would have X-rayed the Harlequin in the autopsy to measure the level of iridescence. It is entirely possible that creating that response from the organism's cells is part of the process of reawakening it."

"It has been seeking warmth," Jack agreed. "Other energy sources may also be of use to it. You're right. We should wait to see what the Doctor has to say. I am not going to take it out of the drawer and start blasting it with energy if that could wake it up again. We will just have to make sure that it remains under guard down in the morgue until further notice," Jack insisted formally. Then he glanced at Major Starkey, forgetting momentarily that she was the one in charge and that it was her show and not his. "Ma'am?"

"Yes, that sounds sensible. Now, the clean up? The men are working down the corridor from this point. We need a medical operative to ensure each room is re-stocked with any equipment taken from those areas for the fall back medical triage. Once each room has been secured, cleaned, and replenished they can be put back into use. They are working quickly at this point. This spur of the wing received no direct damage and the side rooms were not breeched," Major Starkey advised.

"Good, we need to maintain the perimeter and the hold that has been established outside the morgue as well as outside the autopsy lab."

"Private Coates has gone to care of that," Major Starkey confirmed. "He's a sensible young man, that one."

"That he is," Jack confirmed with a nod of his head. "But young, and, I think he is beginning to realise just how significantly some of his friends have been injured," Jack commented. "We need to keep an eye on him. Ensure he has the time he needs."

"Do you want me to order him to stand down?" Major Starkey asked Jack wondering what the best thing for the young private would be.

"No, but, I think it might be pertinent for you to order him to maintain the sanctity of this post," Jack offered. "Assign him to this room and give him a list of personnel who are permitted in. That will do him good and enable him to remain here where we can keep an eye on him, and, serve the purpose once Colonel Mace is returned from surgery," Jack advised. Major Starkey nodded her understanding.

As they all remained in the Doctor's room that had become the East Wing central hub of operations despite the Time Lord being injured and unconscious. They were reminded that perhaps it was not the fairest of places to be discussing tactics by a low moan indicating that the Doctor was starting to come round again. It would have been better for all concerned if he had continued to sleep under the influence of the ketamine. He had been given a dose that would kill a human two times over and still the pain was raging in his leg so it was fighting the sedating, breaking the comforting hold the drugs had on his senses, and shattering any chance he had of resting.

"You're okay, Doc, just rest," Jack was back at his side in a flash. He too the Doctor's hand. The Time Lord was aware enough to squeeze it tightly. "Doc, you need to relax." Jack tried to keep him tension free but the pain was unbearable. The Doctor moaned in discomfort, it was not just a single cowboy now it was like there was a whole fleet of them. Did they form fleets? Fleets of cowboys. He didn't know, he'd never paid it that much heed and he couldn't think about it now, it hurt him too much fleet or not. His entire leg felt like it was being twisted and pulled and hammered and stabbed and mauled.

"Can you not give him anything else?" Jack asked James when it was clear the Doctor was suffering far too much. He tried to move and even in his semi-consciousness drugged haze the scream was piercing.

"Come on, Doctor, you're okay. Just relax and keep still," Jack soothed. He held him and tried to comfort him but he could feel him trembling and shaking with the pain as the ketamine wore off and the reality of Time Lord open fractures was felt.

"James? Please?" Jack felt like he was going to lose all composure and simply cry as the Time Lord hollered in his arms. It felt like they were torturing him but they weren't, they weren't even touching him. His leg was still and he was being held and he was still crying out over and over. He was snatching at the air, keening and crying as he clutched onto Jack existing only inside his embrace and within the pain.

"Until Martha is free from surgery there is very little else that we can do," James advised. "I am sorry. Doctor? We will get you into theatre as soon as we can and that should reduce the pain you're experiencing," James tried to advise him informally, but he wasn't sure the Doctor was focused on anything other than his leg. He could not risk giving him any more drugs, his breathing had been reducing slightly and they could not risk it.

The Doctor continued to cry out for a further to minutes before he simply passed out in Jack's arms. James was again worried about his breathing as he seemed to fail to draw a breath for far too long and then he was breathing on sighs rather than effective breaths. He got Jack to turn the oxygen level up and he got him to take the pillow out and tip his head up slightly just to ensure his airway was clear. It just further clarified he was right not to give him more drugs.

"He can't carry on like this, Sir," Wilfred announced quietly looking to James as Jack lightly kissed the unconscious Time Lord in the middle of his forehead making a silent wish, for he would not pray, that he would remain unconscious.

"I am aware," James confirmed. "I will go and see how long Martha will be and see if she has any ideas on what we can do to assist him in the meantime."

"Do you want me to go?" Gerald asked as James collected his crutches up and swallowed his own discomfort as he rose up out of the chair.

"No, it is fine. You make sure he remains stable. I will find out about his leg."

James made his way out of the East Wing and down toward the surgical theatre one. He didn't like the way he felt like he was being accused because the Doctor was in such pain, nor did he like that he was in such pain. He wasn't exactly comfortable himself. His knee felt like it wanted to explode out from within the brace when that would normally give him a significant amount of relief. He couldn't stand to put any weight on his leg, even with the brace, that was going to be difficult. Normally he'd not consider operating when he had to balance on one leg, but with the Doctor? He was not sure there was going to be any choice in the matter. He would have to go into the theatre. He'd get Martha to lead and ensure that Barb was in there to assist as he as not going to be able to pull and yank his leg around and hammer and drill the bones while only balancing on one leg. He knew that Martha was not averse to some basic stabilisation techniques herself, she'd done quite a few wrists and ankles now, many of them under his supervision, but as brilliant and as well liked as Martha was, she was a general surgeon and a trauma medic. The extensive work the Doctor needed required specialism.

He went into the observation area of the surgical theatre. He looked through and Martha was checking the movement in Colonel Mace's hip joint. There was an image up on the screen and he could see that they had taken a recent neutral X-ray. So much for her not being an orthopaedic specialist. He could see that there was an intramedullary nail running right up through the middle of his femur. The locking pins in the proximal femur just above his knee was in place to stop it from rotating, and then there was another nail right through the neck and head of the bone bringing all the bones together. From what he could see the positioning looked as good as he would have got it, which of course was perfect for healing. Martha was going to end up doing him out of a job.

He waited until they got to a part of the surgery where Martha could leave him for a couple of minutes. When she laid his leg flat on the bed and double checked that his hip was in socket, his legs were the same length. There were open surgical incisions right through the Colonel's groin at the top of his leg and down the outside of his hip in a gruesome T-shape that had bared him into the hip and the pelvis. There was also a lot of blood around the theatre and Mace had two packs running into him at the same time. The problem with blood substitute was that it did not contain any immune cells so they had got a supply of cross matched blood for the Colonel now so he had a pack of substitute and a pack of real blood running in through separate canola and his blood pressure still appeared to be on the low side. When it looked like Martha was getting ready to close the incisions James knocked on the window and she went over to talk to him.

"How is he doing?" James asked.

"The fractures are stable and he's got a good range of movement in his hip. I've had to shave the cartilage as some of that was torn. It shouldn't have any effect. I've grafted the femoral artery and put a stent into the place where the aneurism ruptured and it is holding well," Martha commented.

"A femoral aneurism?" James raised his eyebrows. "They didn't tell me he'd had a blow out?"

"Yeah, traumatic, he was lucky that it was while we were all in the room with him. We got him in here and clamped inside three minutes. I would have lost him if it was any longer and on his tenth blood pack now. I went ahead with the fixation as well or we'd have had to open him up again and I already had to fix the artery."

"It looks good from here." James indicated to the X-ray.

"And, what about that?" Martha pointed through the glass towards the crutches and the brace on James knee.

"It's fine for now."

"You don't look like it's fine, James." Martha could see he was not putting any weight on his leg just standing there.

"I may have to ask you to have a look at it later on, but it's not a priority for now. How long are you going to be in here now?"

"We're ready to close him up," Martha commented. "How do you recommend we continue with him now? His femur and hip are secure and if that was his only injury then we'd probably be looking at early mobilisation wouldn't we?"

"Not with a repaired femoral aneurism." James confirmed what Martha was worried about. "You need him to be immobilised long enough for the artery to start to heal up."

"That was what I was thinking. I don't want the graft to fail."

"How close to the hip line is it?"

"It is right on it," Martha confirmed.

"So when he bends his leg up he's going to be flexing the artery at the point of injury and repair?" James checked.

"Yes."

"In that case you need to look at complete immobilisation. You will still want access to the wounds as well. How close to the genitalia does the lateral incision go?"

"It is about two inches away, but not into the pubic area. The wound he received in the actual incident goes into his right buttock further than we initially realised, but it has not affected the anus and it has closed satisfactorily, so there is no long term issues there."

"Okay, then, I'd use a soft gutter splint to immobilise his leg and keep an angle of about 120 degrees in his hip so the artery is not stretched. The graft will take within the first couple of days so we can do some controlled exercise to ensure his hip does not stiffen too much," James commented. "But it looks good. Well done."

"Thanks," Martha acknowledged with a confident smile. She knew it looked good.

"As soon as you're done in here, as long as there are no more pressing surgeries, we need to bring the Doctor in," James advised.

"Gerald said he'd been tipped out of bed?" Martha commented. She didn't sound as surprised by that as James thought she might, but Martha had known that things were likely going too smoothly where the Doctor was concerned. Gerald had been due to come back and update her but he hadn't yet.

"The mid-shaft tibia has opened quite significantly. There is a two inch protrusion and I am unable to deal with it outside of theatre due to the position of the fragments. It is causing him a significant increase in resting pain, and, the observation of the protruding bone section indicates that the increase in pain is due to exposed nerve tissues actually running within and over the bone structure itself. Certainly more substantially than anything I have seen in a human, and not just in the core but in the surface of the bone too," James advised. "We need to get him anaesthetised and get that sorted and stable for him. I know it will only be temporary pending a full fixation once the swelling has gone down."

"How significant is the wound?"

"Luckily it appears that the oblique nature of the spiral fracture has left a sharp bone end and it has pierced rather than ripped the soft tissues. There is not much in the way of exposed muscle and soft tissue. It is just the protrusion of about two inches of upper tibia. We need to get him into surgery sooner rather than later though to sort him out and I'm going to need you in there. I'm not sure what we'd be doing in terms of anaesthetising him."

"I've never put him under a general before," Martha admitted. "I know the standard ones will work on him. We have had that discussion before."

"So you have discussed his medical needs?" James checked.

"Not as much as we should have," Martha offered. "And, only in this case because he accidentally gassed himself with ether," Martha advised and then rolled her eyes at the memory of finding him slumped and unconscious in the lab when he'd failed to appear for dinner.

"I am not sure I want to know."

"No," Martha agreed. "For a genius Time Lord he really is rather dense at times, but, this time his idiocy has cost him more dearly than it should have. If we're going to operate now then I want to get Lauren Baxter in on the gas. She's the most experiences of our anaesthetists and she will need to be."

"I believe she is in surgery on Jamie at the moment," James commented.

"We will have to wait until that is done then."

"I'd recommend that we have Barb in there as well. I'm loathe to start pulling him around so you'll have to do that with Barb," James commented.

"You're coming in though, right?" Martha checked.

"Yeah, and, I will go and get the fixators ready," James advised.

"Be careful," Martha warned. "There is a fair amount of blood on the floor. Make sure you don't slip."

"They're mopping up at the moment," James advised. "They're opening rooms one at a time along the corridor back toward the morgue but are going to maintain a hold," James commented. "That Captain Jack friend of yours has a good head for this when it comes down to it doesn't he?" James offered.

"Yeah, he does," Martha agreed. "If the Doctor's surgery is going to be quite urgent then I will get it all set to go in theatre two rather than in here so it's ready to go once Lauren and Barb are ready. Are they both currently in surgery as well?"

"I think so, I can check and get updates," James offered. "I'm afraid I've been mostly concerned with the Doctor."

"You shouldn't really be concerned with anything at the moment James. You're not looking particularly comfortable."

"I'll be fine, and surgery theatre two you say?" James checked.

"Yes, there is going to be some significant deep cleaning to be done in here."

"That is what you get when a femoral artery blows," James advised knowledgably. "A mess," James continued. "And, often a dead patient."

"We got lucky this time."

"He got lucky, he got you."


	32. Chapter 32

Martha continued to close Colonel Mace's wounds with wide staples down his hip and across his groin. She dressed the wounds after cleaning the skin with iodine solution and checked that the wound across the rear of his hip remained closed as well. It did. A small drain was positioned into the wound to make sure there was no significant build-up of fluid. She then moved him back onto his bed and positioned his leg in a gutter splint. It was a curved foam cushioned splint and she bandaged around the top of it so that he could not lift his leg out of it if he became disorientated as he returned to consciousness from the general anaesthetic. They would be able to get his leg out of the gutter easily in order to exercise him over the next couple of days, but he'd not be doing anything unsupervised. He was ventilated for the surgery and on 100% oxygen because of the significant blood loss. His blood pressure remained on the low side, but they didn't want it to increase too much until the artery had repaired. He'd been literally seconds away from death with the blood loss he'd endured. His heart had been struggling to beat as it had lost the pressure but hadn't actually stopped and was now back into a good rhythm. They were not going to take any of his immediate recovery lightly though. He was going to have to be monitored and kept quiet and comfortable.

Once she had Mace comfortable she was going to have to take the Doctor into surgery and that was something she had never done and always feared. He got through drugs at an alarming rate so she had no idea how he was going to respond the anaesthetic, they would need to keep him under, but there was a risk they'd take him too low and then he'd be in even more trouble. That was why she wanted Lauren Baxter to come in and manage the anaesthetic. She was their most experienced anaesthetist and she was brought in when there were difficult cases to manage.

All of the surgical recovery rooms were closer to the morgue from the theatres rather than closer to the East Wing so she didn't want to take Colonel Mace down there, even if it did look like Jack had got the Harlequin secured. She was not going to put him closer to the danger zone than to the safe zone to come round from his surgery. Martha took Mace back into the Doctor's room. He was still unconscious but Jack, Major Starkey, Private Coates, Wilfred, and Mickey were in there.

"How is he?" Jack asked.

"So far so good," Martha commented. "But, we're going to be taking the Doctor out when my usual surgical team are free. They are operating on someone else at the moment, but I will need them to come in with me with him. As he is unconscious and needs to rest, and Alan needs some time to come round from his anaesthetic I think you're all going to have to relocate," Martha offered. "The room across from the East Wing seems to have been readied. That is a store at the moment, but it does have a data access points in there so we can get a phone and a PC set up in there for you. That can now be your centre of operations," Martha advised.

"You're kicking us out then?" Major Starkey checked.

"Now that it is going to be detrimental to the Colonel's and the Doctor's medical needs, yes, I'm kicking you out," Martha confirmed.

"When you operate on the Doctor can I come in with him?" Jack asked as he rubbed the Time Lord's shoulders.

"No, you can't," Martha didn't hesitate in denying him. "You can see him when he comes out again. I'll not be able to concentrate properly if you're hanging around and it's going to be difficult enough as it is," Martha warned. "Now, I'm going to get Maggie to…"

"Um, Doctor Jones?" Gerald interrupted and got her attention and called her to one side.

"What is it?" She could see that he didn't want to be telling her what he was going to tell her. She hoped he'd not accidentally overdosed someone or given someone the wrong drugs in the heat of the crisis. It would be easy to do.

"There was an incident when the Harlequin came down in the East Wing," Gerald offered.

"And the Doctor got tipped out of the bed."

"The entire bed tipped over," Gerald confirmed. "But, Ma'am, it came down initially in quarantine room two. Maggie was in there at the time. I'm sorry, Martha, but Maggie was killed."

"It got Maggie?" Martha didn't quite believe what she was saying. "Maggie Taylor?"

"I'm sorry," Gerald nodded. "Tom Vance and John Oliver were in the room too. They were both killed as well."

"What status were their injuries?" Martha asked.

"Non-critical," Gerald advised her. They were injured but their injuries were not going to kill them but that Harlequin had come down out of the ceiling and killed them and the nurse who was looking after them.

"Um, okay." Martha felt like she'd just had the wind knocked out of her completely. Maggie? Damn that was unexpected news. It was all unexpected, but Maggie? Martha took a deep breath. She could see that they were looking to her for assurances and the Colonel's bed had not yet been positioned correctly and connected up to the in room monitors. She set about doing that as she tried to work out what to do next. "Right, if Maggie isn't available, how about Eddie? I've seen her in here. Let's find out if she is free and she can come in here," Martha offered. "I will go and get an update on what is going on and then we'll prep the Doctor ready to take him in once the personnel are available."

"You do what you need to do, love," Wilfred commented. "And, we will keep out of your way until you need us." He insisted collecting up his bits and pieces so that they could all move over into the room that had been reallocated as central operations by Martha to give the Colonel and the Doctor the peace they needed.

"Gerald, do you know if anyone has spoken to Captain Price?" Martha asked him. "Has she come down here yet?"

"I don't think so, Ma'am."

"Who is she?" Wilf asked.

"I've not met any Captain Price yet," Jack confirmed.

"You've probably talked to her in control. She is Colonel Mace's fiancée. I didn't have a chance to update her before, but if she can be relieved in control then she should come down," Martha suggested. She looked at Major Starkey. "Can you see to that?"

"Yes, of course," Major Starkey confirmed. "I will get her relieved in control immediately."

"She will be pretty worried and she doesn't know just how close we came to losing him or how seriously he has been hurt. If you can get her down, Major, I will come and talk to her when she arrives. It will be good for him if she is able to be here when he wakes up."

"How close was it?" Jack asked her.

"Very." Martha stated. Martha went out into the main area of the East Wing. She still had her surgical gear on and there was some blood on it.

"Ma'am," Stan commented as she walked into the area that had been set up as triage. It looked like the majority of walking wounded had been dealt with in the first instance now.

"How are we doing, Stan?"

"Just grand," he offered seriously. "We're all under control here. A few left to be seen, but they're relatively minor out here. Just cuts and bruises."

"Okay, good, how many waiting for initial treatment post triage?"

"Three waiting for wound treatment. Cleaning and stitching for two of them. I think the third will need to get plastics involved for a graft but it's not critical. That thing took a clear chunk out of his side," Stan advised. "He's sore, but not critical. We've got two more that have non-critical bullet wounds that will have minor surgery to retrieve the bullets and close the wounds, and there is one with an ankle injury, possibly a fracture. The guy escaped the alien and then slipped in a pile of sick. It may be just a sprain but he's waiting as well," Stan advised. "No one is kicking up a fuss about the time scales, I think everyone is aware that there have been some seriously injured people coming through and they're all concerned about the Colonel. How is he?"

"He's out of surgery and in recovery," Martha offered. "As far as I can tell it has gone well. It's going to take him some time, but we will get there," Martha offered. "If people are asking you can tell them that he's in recovery but that it will be several weeks before he returned to base commander but that they are not to start slacking because he will be coming back and he will be expecting the same standards to be maintained for those filling in for him in the meantime."

"Yes, Ma'am," Stan confirmed.

"Thank you for all you have done so far today," Martha acknowledged. She was about to continue through the area to find Anita and get an update from her as she would have a good overview of what was going on and where everyone was positioned. She would get an update, find out who was in surgery and how long it would be for her to get a team she was confident in taking the Doctor into surgery, and then she would talk to Captain Price about Colonel Mace. Then she'd have to take the Time Lord into surgery. She didn't think anyone actually understood just how different he was beneath the exterior and how awkward he could be when everything they had was geared to humans, right down to having to monitor two separate heart rates. Their equipment wasn't designed to measure two heart rates, half the time he looked like he had an echo, and the other half of the time it looked like his heart rate was accelerated way above normal, twice as fast as normal in fact. Everything they did with him had to be modified and interpreted. It was hard and surgery always carried a risk. Once she had completed the surgery on the Doctor she thought she might have the chance to grab something to eat and to refuel for a few minutes, but she was well aware that they would be working long and hard hours and well into the night when it was only just early afternoon.

As Martha passed beyond the curtains away from the triage area she heard a 'fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck, bastard…' from in one of the makeshift cubicles made from portable screens. It didn't sound like someone was having an angry rant, more than someone who was in a lot of discomfort and trying not to complain too much about it. She pulled the curtain to one side and went into the area. Lieutenant Paul Harrison was recumbent on a thin leather treatment couch that had been dragged in from one of the rarely used side rooms. His arms were folded over his head and he was grimacing, but he tried to straighten and look less agonised when Martha appeared.

"That is some language there, Paul," Martha commented.

"Sorry Ma'am, I didn't realise anyone could hear."

"You don't need to apologise," Martha advised. "It sounded to me like you're hurting?"

"I've got to suck it up, Ma'am. I know that there are people with more serious injuries to be dealt with first. It's just bloody killing me," Paul complained. It was clear that he was the soldier that Stan had indicated had an ankle injury because he had his foot bared and it was resting up on a pillow.

"Have you had any pain relief?" Martha asked him.

"Stan said that I will get some after I've been properly examined. Doctor Carter was going to come in and sort me out but then he got called to go into surgery."

"He came into surgery with me, so that was quite a while ago now," Martha offered.

"It feels like bloody ages!" Paul exclaimed but then sighed. "I'm fine though, doctor, I can wait."

"Well, it is pretty clear that you're not fine, Paul. While you may need to wait a while longer for proper treatment we can have a quick look at what is going on now and get you more comfortable while you do wait. I can examine you and then give you some pain relief," Martha offered. "So, it's your ankle?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Do you remember how it happened?" Martha asked him.

"I was running and I skidded on the floor on a wet patch. I turned over on my ankle and I heard a snapping sound."

"Did your ankle turn inward or outward?" Martha asked him.

"Inward I think," Paul advised. "I'm not even really sure."

"Okay, is the pain on the inside or the outside?"

"That is on the outside and down into the side of my foot," Paul advised.

Martha took in the way that his foot was resting on the pillow. His toes were turned in slightly and he relaxed inward rather than outward. There was a distinctive mark of swelling across the outside of his ankle where it looked like an egg had secreted itself beneath the skin. "Can you wriggle your toes for me?" Martha checked. Paul did that and he was able to do it. "When you did it were you able to stand on your ankle at all afterward?"

"No, not at all. It's too painful," Paul offered.

"What does it feel like? Is it sharp or dull or throbbing?"

"It's sharp and it's throbbing."

"Okay, I am going to have a quick feel of your ankle and then we will see about getting some scans done."

"Do you think it is broken?"

"It's possible," Martha advised. "It may just be a serious sprain. They can be incredibly painful too."

"It can't be broken." Paul sighed heavily. "I know it isn't something I should be thinking about right now, but my brother is getting married next weekend and I'm his best man."

"That sounds like a great thing to be thinking about right now," Martha commented. "Have you got your speech sorted yet?" she asked him as she got Paul to lift his leg up slightly. Martha repositioned the pillow, folding it over, and then getting him to lower his leg back down so that it was under his calf but his foot and ankle were free for examination. "I'm going to check there is no nerve injury first, so I want you to tell me if you can feel me touching you?" She lightly rubbed the different areas of his foot. He could feel in all of the areas. She got a pulse in his foot so that was good. "And, the pain is in the outside of your ankle and foot?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Can you move your foot and point your toes?" Martha asked him. He grimaced as he tried but it was going to be too painful for him.

"It's broken isn't it?"

"We can scan and confirm it," Martha offered.

"Do you think it is though?"

"Let's see." Martha gently cupped his heel in one hand and straightened his foot out a bit so that it was in a neutral position. He tensed and he bent his other knee up, closing his eyes, and putting his head right back. "If it's too much then tell me, Paul," Martha advised him. She held his foot in position with one hand and felt into the outside of his ankle. She ran her fingers under the area where the most pain would be felt in a classic sprain. "How does that feel?"

"God, ow?" Paul grimaced.

"Okay, what about here?" She moved her thumbs up over the ankle bone. She felt around it and above it. Paul grimaced, but when she applied a pressure to the side of the area Paul swore.

"Fuck, arrgh, God?!"

"Is that worse or better?" Martha carefully turned his ankle out in the way that he had apparently twisted on it.

"Worse!" he snapped. Martha held it and used her thumb to press across his ankle. She felt the slight movement she suspected, but she didn't continue on as far as she might have done if Paul had already been given some medication.

"I'm sorry, Paul." Martha let him relax again. "I am fairly certain that we will find that you have broken your ankle and that the break is in the neck of the fibula which is the smaller of the two leg bones. It just sits on the outside of your ankle here. There may be other cracks or chips or fractures in the tibia as well that will show up on the scans. "Scans will confirm, but, I'm 95% certain you have a fracture there."

"So what does that mean, a cast?"

"It will depend on what the scans say. You may need surgery to stabilise it all up. There is a ligament that holds the tibia and the fibula together and that commonly snaps in injuries like this and it is best repaired with a couple of screws. It shouldn't stop you from going to your brother's wedding, you might just be doing the speeches on crutches and in a cast."

"It's in Crete," Paul advised. "I'm supposed to be flying out there on Wednesday? Am I going to be able to fly?"

"We will know after the scans," Martha offered. "But, it might be difficult. It is most important that we get you sorted though, so, I'm going to get someone in to come and put a temporary splint on your ankle, get some ice on it, and that should help. I will also write you up for some pain relief. Are you allergic to anything, Paul?" Martha asked.

"Not that I know of."

"And, have you ever taken morphine before?"

"Yes, but I don't like it." Paul pulled a face. "It makes me feel like I've had too many bad pints. If that is all there is then I don't want anything."

"Okay." Martha understood that morphine didn't suit some people. "Have you had tramadol before?"

"No."

"Okay, I will give you a couple of them. It takes a bit longer as it's an oral drug, but you should find it effective. It may make you feel a bit drowsy but not as bad as morphine. I will write it up and get someone to bring you some in and then put a splint on and get your scans going for you. I am sorry I can't do it myself. I have got to get an update and then get into surgery."

"I'm sorry to have taken up your time."

"Don't be daft. It is what we're here for."

"Is it true that the Colonel has had surgery?" Paul asked.

"Yes it is."

"Is he going to be okay? I saw what he did. He drew that alien thing so we could all get in and shoot it in the head wound. It hit him straight on," Paul commented.

"He's had surgery and it went as well as we could hope. He's going to need some time to recovery but he will recover. It is going to take him some time and he'll be pretty poorly and need to be quiet and restful for a few days, but he will recovery. It is going to important that everything carries on as normal so he is allowed the time to rest," Martha offered. "We've all got to carry on and do our best so he doesn't have to worry."

"I am sure everyone will do that," Paul offered. Martha didn't go into any of the specifics of the Colonel's injury but it was going to be important for his men to know he wasn't about to peg it, at least he better not, he was still poorly but she hoped he would be a bit better and that he'd come round from the anaesthetic easily. There were going to be risks associated with his injury, but she hoped it would all be okay.

"Thank you, Doctor Jones," Paul commented. He knew that she had to be busy. Out of all the medical staff she was the director and probably the busiest. He had heard that the medical team had taken casualties as well and that there were three medics killed. That was going to be hard for them too.

"You're welcome." Martha rubbed her shoulder. "I will look in on you later. I expect you'll get a temporary cast on and we will reassess you for surgery after a few days. I am sorry you've been hurt."

"I'm just worried about the wedding."

"We'll do what we can to get you there."

"But no promises?"

"I'm sorry, no," Martha confirmed. "We'll see. If there is anything we can do to get you there without risking your injury then we'll do it."

"Thanks."

Martha could see that Paul was worried about it and he was hurting. There was always more involved in the crises that others did not see and that was the personal side of it. They all cared about each other within UNIT and they all had their personal lives as well. "I will look in and see you in a little while."

"Thanks."

Martha left Paul and went back out to see Stan. "Paul Harrison has definitely got a broken ankle. He doesn't want morphine so I'm writing him up for tramadol. Can you get him two 50mg capsules now and get him a neutral box splint on. That will make him more comfortable until we can scan him and we need to get some ice on it for him as well. We'll scan him but it is going to show a proximal fibula fracture as a minimum. Hopefully that is all he has," Martha commented.

"Yes, doctor," Stan confirmed. Martha grabbed a medical chart of the pile brought in from triage. She wrote it up for Paul indicating he'd received two tramadol and then gave it to Stan so he could administer the drugs for her.

Martha continued round to find out what else was going on.

"Doctor Jones?" A female soldier was lying on a couch in a room. She'd obviously had more than her initial triage as she had a drip running into her arm and a couple of basic monitors attached. There wasn't anything that indicated they were worried about her stability. She had a white medical gown on rather than a T-shirt and she had a full leg splint on with some heavy bandaging around her thigh. She also had some heavy bandaging around her arm that was supported on a pillow that was resting on her abdomen.

"How are you doing, Lynn?" Martha asked pausing to go into the room even though she was pushed for time and she wanted to find Anita for the update and then to go back and speak to Captain Price who would be coming down sooner rather than later. Then she had to get ready for surgery on the Doctor and deal with anything she had to in the meantime.

"Not very well, Ma'am," Lynn sounded worried. Martha pulled the electronic tablet from the foot of the bed. She'd been seen by Doctor Mallory and was nil by mouth and waiting to go into surgery. They were going to retrieve a bullet from her thigh and to do some clean-up work and to stitch a wound on her arm. They were both pretty minor and straight forward. She was receiving pain relief and fluids through the drips and her monitors showed all her vitals were within acceptable ranges. Her heart rate was a little high, but that was to be expected when she had been close enough to the alien to be shot.

"What can I do for you, Lynn?" Martha asked her kindly, going in and taking her hand.

"I'm so scared," Lynn whispered. Martha could see her heart rate was elevating a bit. "That thing. The thing that attacked us? Was it a ghost?!"

"It was an alien species called a Harlequin Ghost. It is secured now. You don't have to worry about it anymore."

"It was screaming inside my head," Lynn whispered. "I could hear it even though it wasn't making any sound. It was screaming and it was inside my head. I couldn't hear it with my ears. It was in my head! It made my freeze and I couldn't fire and I…" Lynn started to cry. Her heart rate went up to 108 beats per minute.

"It is okay," Martha assured her. "It is what that thing does," Martha commented. "You didn't do anything wrong. It is the Harlequin. The Doctor told me that when it attacks it broadcasts a telepathic flare to disorientate it's victims," Martha told her.

"By getting in our heads?" Lynn whispered.

"Yes."

"It's gone now."

"Well, that is good, isn't it?" Martha gently hugged her. "It is secure and it is not going to hurt anyone else. It's okay to be upset about it," Martha held her. "It has been a horrible day, hasn't it? And you've been hurt, so it is okay. The Doctor told me about the telepathic flare. IT isn't anything wrong with you or anything. It is just what it does."

"Why did it attack us all?"

"From what the Doctor has said it is just designed to do that. It is a genetically bred animal that is used as a weapon," Martha told her. "It has no specific agenda. It's not attacked us as a personal plan, it has just attacked because that is what it does and we are here and so is it. It is just as if we had mistakenly brought a bomb in here and it had detonated. It's not an attack against us, it was just an attack."

"What if it does come back?"

"Then we know how to stop it now," Martha offered. "The guard units have been equipped with a specific weapon to ensure that it is contained. It is not going to come back. You just need to rest easily and we will sort you out."

"I got shot?" Lynn whispered.

"I know," Martha caressed her head. "But, it isn't as bad as it could be. The bullet is just lodged in the muscle. It's hit no major blood vessels and it's not damaged the bone. It will be alright. It was a ricochet so a lot of the power of the shot was lost or you'd be in a lot worse a condition now. You're pretty lucky," Martha tried to assure her though she knew it mustn't have felt pretty lucky. "I bet you'll be out of here this evening, if not this evening then tomorrow. You're going to have some stitches in the wound in your arm and they're going to get the bullet out and clean that wound up for you. You're going to be okay. You don't need to be worried or upset." Martha held her and rubbed her back tenderly as Lynn leant into her and sobbed. "It's alright. It's over."

"Doctor Jones? I'm sorry, Ma'am, I've been looking for you?" Anita came in to the cubicle and interrupted. Martha looked over to her but she couldn't leave Lynn when she was so upset. "I have called Alex in to keep Lynn company," Anita offered.

"Is he hurt?!" Lynn whimpered.

"No, he was on standby outside. He's asked if he can come in," Anita checked. "I was just checking to make sure you weren't having a medical discussion with Doctor Jones?"

"Can I see Alex?" Lynn sniffed.

"Yes, of course you can," Martha smiled and winked at Anita. Anita confirmed that Lieutenant Alex MacIntosh could come in. A tall six foot three tall, muscular, tanned soldier with sandy blond hair that turned the heads of men and women alike rushed into the cubicle.

"Lynn?" he hurried to her bedside. "Are you okay?"

"Oh Alex? It was horrible?!" Lynn sobbed. Alex took over from Martha.

"Is she okay?" he checked with the medic.

"She needs to have some minor treatment under anaesthetic, but she will be fine," Martha confirmed as she let Lynn get comforted by her boyfriend.

"I got shot?" Lynn whispered. "It's going to scar, it will be horrible," Lynn complained. Alex just tutted and kissed her on the top of her head. If she was worried about scarring then she was going to be okay.

"Shout if you need anything else," Martha commented, but Lynn was now so wrapped up in Alex's loving attention that she was barely noticed as she left the cubicle with Anita.

"You were looking for me?" Martha asked. "Have you got an update for me?"

"Yes, I have," Anita commented. "An update comes with a condition though."

"Oh? And, what might that be?" Martha checked.

"This." Anita handed Martha a take away coffee cup. "Vanilla latte, extra hot, double sweet," Anita advised her. "I thought you might need the boost, and, I've got the update electronically, so you can come and sit outside with me for ten minutes and get some fresh air as we discuss it," Anita insisted.

"I shouldn't really go out."

"And, why not?" Anita asked. "Lynn is not your patient. I was only getting Alex for her. She's worried and upset but she doesn't need medical attention until a surgery comes free and I think she is about fourth on the list."

"I take it the Doctor is on the list?" Martha asked.

"No, we've assumed you're going to take him down to one of the other theatres again?" Anita commented. "We're not sure of how he will be with the anaesthetic so I've booked Lauren Baxter to go in with you and Barb said she'd quite like to have a crack at his leg, though I am not sure that is appropriate turn of phrase. She doesn't know that James's knee has gone yet, so it is even more critical that Barb goes in isn't it?"

"You know you're brilliant," Martha offered. "How long until they're going to be free?"

"That is the slight problem. Both Barb and Lauren are in theatre at the moment and they are in with Jamie and that looks like it is going to take a while yet, but, that gives you time to come and get your update and drink your coffee on the steps and get some fresh air. You were looking knackered before that thing came back to life and started killing people," Anita offered.

"I was up with the Doctor most of the night," Martha commented and then yawned as her body reminded her that she was feeling a little fatigued. Sitting outside and getting some air for a few minutes might not be a bad idea.

"We have got two surgical teams worked at the moment and two ready to switch in so that when the current ones come out they can start to prep their patients," Anita offered. "And, we've been told that the main corridor is going to be back in use in the next hour so we'll move down to the main theatres."

"Theatre one is in need of a full deep clean at the moment," Martha offered.

"You been decorating down there?" Anita checked.

"Femoral artery," Martha nodded and Anita pulled a face.

"Did it get the ceiling?"

"No, it'd already lost a lot of pressure by the time we got down there," Martha advised. "Who is waiting for surgery now?"

"We have got one more priority one patient to get in. They are fully supported at the moment. It is Lawrence Ashburn. We're worried he might lose his arm so we've been waiting for Mr Burton to come on site. He is going to be here within twenty minutes so he will be able to have a look at his arm and then we will get him in. Then we've got a few more patients that may need plastic surgery so Mr Burton can look at them too," Anita advised as she opened the door of the East Wing and led Martha out into the cool fresh air. They sat on the steps.

"So, who is in surgery now?" Martha asked.

"Cole London and Jamie Norton."

"Okay, so, where are we standing at the moment?"

"We have 22 confirmed dead," Anita advised. "You know about Maggie?" Anita asked quietly.

"I heard." Martha nodded sadly.

"She didn't stand a chance. It came down from the ceiling vent and killed her instantly. It killed Tom Vance and John Oliver as well, both of them were in the room with serious but non-life-threatening injuries," Anita advised. "We're seeing a lot of people with bullet wounds."

"The Harlequin is bulletproof apparently," Martha advised. "Who do we have living?" They could not spare the time to think about the dead just yet when there were people who needed to be saved, treated, and to have their recoveries promoted as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

"We've six patients who are critical and that we're worried about. Jamie who is in surgery at the moment."

"She is the young soldier that was with James?"

"Yes," Anita confirmed. "She has got some serious facial injuries. She is going to need her jaw totally rebuilding and she's got facial fractures to the left side of her face where it has impacted into the frontal lobe. James Lloyd performed an emergency tracheotomy and kept a viable airway because her upper trachea has been crushed. There are some bone fragments in the temporal and frontal lobes of her brain. She also has a serious traumatic wound to his abdomen that had resulted in her liver being severely lacerated and the hepatic artery being compromised. They are going to try to patch her up but she is going to need a lot of intensive treatment if she makes it through the surgery," Anita advised.

"Okay," Martha took it in. "Who else is critical?"

"Richard, the guy that you performed the emergency chest drain for? He's had a more permanent one put in and he's on a ventilator at the moment as he is not breathing unaided. He's got a flail chest so they are keeping him under heavy sedation in order to adequately ventilate him," Anita advised. "Blue Rigsby is one of the most seriously injured. He has a massive traumatic head injury and well, he…" Anita paused not quite knowing how to describe the injuries he had received. Instead she pulled up his file on the tablet and handed it to Martha. They had taken images of his injuries when he came in so that they could study them and bandage him up and not have to keep on removing the bandages to look underneath.

"Oh my God?" Martha wasn't sure she had ever seen anything like it outside the movie theatre on fright night. It looked like he'd put his head in a mincer and had then been stamped on. He only had one small section of skin remaining on his face. It was almost a diamond shape and it was across his left cheek. The rest of his face was gone. It was just like looking at meat. His jaw bone was exposed to the bone and teeth on the right side of his face and his eye was resting in the bloody gore of his face as it hung from threaded optic nerves. She could see from the non-spherical shape of the detached eye that it had been punctured and had lost the aqueous fluid. There was no sign of his other eye at all. "How is he even alive?"

"He was overlooked on the first round," Anita offered. "They walked right over him and didn't check him, sure that he had to be dead. They got him on the way back because he was convulsing," Anita advised. "He's had several serious seizures. He has a depressed occipital skull fracture and significant cerebral oedema. They've not had a chance to take him into surgery yet, he's not well enough. He's been knocked out completely and he has been ventilated. He's receiving blood, oxygen, and is on total support."

"Crap." Martha wasn't sure what else to say. Her medical mind went off on what they would be doing to minimise the damage to his brain from swelling using the coma and putting a drain in and then the grafts and the reconstruction of his face right down to providing him perfectly colour matched prosthetic eyes. They'd be electric blue as everyone was sure they'd earned him the nickname Blue, though, it was actually his given name. They were in partnership with Royal Hope when it came to some disciplines and neurology was one of them so they would be getting one of their neurologists in on a temporary basis to deal with them. It wasn't worth having a neurologist permanently on site. While she worked out what they would be doing in her head, her heart was wondering why he had even survived in that condition and she thought perhaps the only saving grace might be the brain trauma and that he may not be aware that his face had literally been ripped off his head and that he'd never be able to see the damage. "Has his next of kin been informed?"

"They are attempting to contact next of kin for Blue, Jamie, and for Cole London at the moment as the initial priorities," Anita advised. Martha knew that those with next of kin contacts as a priority were those that might have a chance to come in and say goodbye because they were unlikely to make it through the next six hours or so.

"Cole?"

"Perforated bowel," Anita advised. "He's in surgery at the moment. They are doing a total bypass and jejunostomy. They'll probably put the feeding tube in at the same time. He's lost a lot of his intestines and his bowel has been totally split. He is already running a high fever and showing signs of septicaemia, but he was eviscerated."

"Another one?" Martha asked. She'd lost her patient who had been ripped open across the lower belly and she had heard that Walt had been gutted in the same manner. The Harlequin had a knack of ripping them open at the belly. If Cole was alive and his bowel had been split then all the bacteria that inhabited the gut would have spilled into the abdominal cavity with faecal matter and partially digested foods. There were going to be all kinds of possible horrible infections as a result. It seemed Cole had been unfortunate if he was already showing the symptoms of septicaemia. It had also gone straight to the blood stream.


	33. Chapter 33

Martha was about to look at Cole's record to see what antibiotics he'd been given if it had already got onto the electronics. They'd have a lot of catching up to do. A UNIT soldier still in uniform and unhurt came round the back of the East Wing. He was not a part of the regular patrols that were walking round at intervals, but he seemed to be storming. He looked distraught and distressed as he went passed. Martha stood in order to see if there was anything she could do but as she stood he saw her and he stopped.

"Steve?" Martha called out to him.

"You're drinking coffee?!" Steve shrieked at her. He waved his hands at her as he was highly animated and his voice was several notes higher than his normal baritone. There were tears streaking down his face as he yelled at her.

"Steve?" Martha knew what the matter was. If the Harlequin had come down into the room where Tom Vance was and had killed him? Steve had obviously been told. Martha wasn't sure if she should step down toward him or to actually step back.

"My Tom is dead and you're out here drinking fucking coffee?! You said he was going to be fine! Don't worry about it you said! He will be okay! He's fucking dead?! You fucking bitch! How can you be out here drinking coffee?! You fucking waste of fucking space!" he screamed at Martha. She had not spoken to Steve about Tom at all during the day, but she knew that they were partners. Not mane of the people on the base did. It was not unacceptable to be homosexual on base, but Steve and Tom had both worried about it being difficult if it became publically known in the barracks. They had kept it quiet for over two years.

"What the Hell? Steve! You can't say that!" A patrol hurried round to find out what all the shouting was. "Stand down, Corporal." They instructed. "Mate? Come on, what is going on?" One of the patrolling officers, Antonio approached him.

"Tom's dead!" Steve yelled. "And she's drinking fucking coffee like it doesn't matter!" Steve accused jabbing his fingers towards Martha wildly.

"Come on ma, you know if Doctor Jones could have done anything she would have," Antonio offered. "Come on, let's go back to barracks, eh?" he offered and went to put his hand on Steve's arm to lead him away.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" Steve snapped and lashed out at Antonio. Antonio received a punch in the face, but he bundled Steve down to the floor and tried to restrain him. The shouts brought additional patrolling offices round and they fought to restrain Steve on the ground. He was so upset and so angry that it took four of them to pin him down to the ground. He was finally subdued and breathing heavily as he had a soldier kneeling on his shoulder and his arms cuffed behind his back and another soldier pushing his head down into the ground so he couldn't hit his own head off the concrete. He was heaving; out of breath from the exertion and sobbing heavily.

Martha went down to him. He'd received a graze above his eye during the brawl. The road was being churned up by the heavy goods traffic that was taking building supplies around to the back of the base where the new hospital was being built so it was full of potholes and grit and gravel were sticking to the side of Steve's face. He didn't seem to notice or to care.

"I'm sorry about Tom," Martha advised him.

"Get away from me," Steve sobbed.

"Okay." Martha sighed. "Take him to the brig," Martha suggested to Antonio.

"The brig, Ma'am?" Antonio checked not sure that was fair even if he had been abusive to the medical director.

"Yes, the brig, and do not leave him alone. Do not allow him access to any weapons. When he is calmed down and is ready to talk ring through and I will come down as soon as I can."

"When you've finished your coffee?" Steve spat and then screamed out as the soldier kneeling on him twisted the rigid handcuffs slightly and they dug into his wrists painfully.

"Don't do that to him!" Martha barked in response.

"He has not right to talk to you like that, Ma'am," the soldier commented.

"And you have no right to deliberately hurt him either," Martha argued. "He's upset and I can understand that. Take him to the brig and look after him there. It is clear that I can't at the moment."

"She's on a break…" Steve muttered.

"Look!" Anita snatched the tablet out of Martha's hand and thrust it in front of Steve as he laid on the ground. "Does that look like a break to you?! You ignorant fuck!"

"Anita!" Martha was stunned as her head nurse thrust medical records at him.

"That is Cole!" Anita exclaimed. "I made Martha come out here and made her have a coffee so she can stop for two minutes while we have an update on how people are doing or she would keep on going until she dropped!" Anita advised. "It was me that told you that Tom would be okay! Not Martha, and I told you that because he had a broken humerus and a few cuts and bruises and nothing else. He was going to be fine. We didn't count on the ghost coming out of the ceiling and killing Tom, John and Maggie right there in the room where he was resting after having his arm set. You ignorant shit! Martha wasn't even there. She had gone beyond the hold and into the danger zone in order to operate and save Colonel Mace! So don't you have a go at her!"

"Anita?" Martha sighed. "Leave it."

"No! I'm not having it! He's not the only person who has lost someone today! We've lost people too! Maggie, Luke, Walt, and everyone else. We don't have the luxury of breaking down and accusing everyone else about it because we have to carry on and try to save everyone else's backsides! What was he doing when Tom was killed, huh?" Anita hissed. "He was standing by out here with tea and hotdogs! While we've been trying to save everyone and patch them up and we've been up to the front line and we've been knee deep in guts and blood and sick! He's got no fucking right to blame anyone for this! Least of all you! He should say sorry!" Anita advised. "Say fucking sorry!"

"Anita!" Martha grabbed her arm and pulled her away. "Stop it, okay? Just, calm down, and stop it."

"No!" Anita tried to pull away from Martha. "He needs to…"

"Grieve," Martha commented quietly as she wrapped her arms around Anita. "He needs to grieve. He was engaged to Tom," she whispered.

"Engaged?"

"Yeah, if he needs to get angry with me then it is okay. I know about him and Tom. His unit don't," Martha offered. "It's alright." She held Anita when her nurse started to break as well. "It's alright." Martha held her knowing that it was not about Steve but it was about Maggie and Luke and Walt and the young men and women who should have been killed and who were clinging on with the worst injuries imaginable and those that were not going to be able to recover and the heart ache and the pain and the patching of people up. Martha could not afford to humour the tears pricking the back of her own eyes. She had too much to do, and, she needed Anita to be calm and clear headed. "It's alright," Martha assured her. "But, I need you to be okay," Martha advised her.

"I'm sorry."

"Go and walk to the main canteen and order fifty lunch packs," Martha instructed Anita.

"I can do that on the phone."

"No, I want you to walk over there. Make sure they get the message properly and make sure they don't all come back with tuna in them. I bloody hate tuna, especially when they put sweetcorn in it!" Martha commented. Anita was about to protest, but Martha just looked at her. She took the tablet back off Anita. "Right now you have two choices," Martha commented. "You take a slow walk over and get the lunch order sorted or I put you on report and relieve you for the rest of the day," Martha advised her. Anita bowed her head. "Go and get the lunches sorted because I need you back to finish this. You're right when you say that we don't have the luxury of breaking down. Not yet. We have got work to do, and, lunch packs are part of that. Staff and non-critical / non-surgical patients are going to need to eat and we're not going to be able to do the normal canteen runs, so lunch packs. In fact get sixty of them. I am sure some of the boys will want to have two."

"Okay." Anita got the message. She had crossed a line by responding to Steve the way she had – even if she was right. It had been unprofessional and Martha didn't need her to be behaving like that.

"Get him up would you?" Martha instructed and the soldiers dragged Steve back up to his feet. She was worried that he was angry and upset enough to do something stupid. "Take him to the brig. I want him in cell H1. Don't leave him alone, don't allow him access to weapons, and I want him in a jumpsuit with no belt and no laces," Martha instructed. "I will see about sending a medic over for assessment as soon as we've got someone free, but our secure room is beyond the safe zone at the moment, so it is going to have to be the brig."

"You're locking me up?! You bitch!" Steve lunched toward Martha enough that she took a step back and the soldiers had to adjust their hold on him.

"Keep your mouth shut," Antonio instructed. "I'm sorry, Ma'am."

"It's not the first time or the last time." Martha tried not to let anyone see that it hurt for her to be accused like that. She understood it. She understood that he was angry. She understood that he would have been told Tom as fine and now he was dead. She understood that she was one of the only people on the base who knew about their engagement and how much they loved each other. She often wondered how they managed to keep it secret, it seemed to ooze from them uncontrollably when they were together. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all. Martha waited until Steve had been taken away. He had a soldier on each arm and his hands cuffed behind his back but he still struggled and fought to the point where a third soldier came in and ducked down and wrapped his arms around his legs so that they carried him.

Martha went back into the East Wing. The hospital normally smelt of pine cleaner and Dettol but the smell was different. It was blood and sweat and fear and with the sour taint of sick and shit. She felt like she needed to get in the shower and scrub for hours and she would, but not likely for hours.

"Lacey?" Martha called a young nursing assistant over. She wasn't a yet a fully qualified medic but she was efficient, well-liked, and kind toward the patients. "What is your current task?"

"I'm just about to get a new patient issued," she suggested.

"Okay, if I sort that could you go over to the brig? I've just had to put Steve Brough on suicide watch. Can you ensure he's not received any injuries that need urgent treatment as he's been restrained and can you do constant obs on him so that you can get security to intervene if he does try to do anything harmful? He needs to be in cell H1 as there are no ligature points in there and I told them to put him into a jumpsuit and take his belt and laces, can you confirm they have done that. He's pretty upset that Tom Lance has been killed," Martha advised formally. "Who is the new patient?" Martha checked.

"I'm not sure. They're with Stan."

"Okay," Martha nodded. Lacey went over to the brig where she would monitor Steve and make sure he they knew the minute that he tried to do something to hurt himself so they could intervene. Lacey had done some work with mental health so had been on suicide watches before. She would talk Steve to death and then he'd not want to hurt himself anymore, or that was her intention, she knew it was not that straightforward, but if he was in an immediate state of grief then his intention was unlikely to be to actually kill himself but potentially to join the dead and making him see there was a difference would be important.

Martha went into the triage area to find out who the new patient Lacey had been going to issue. It meant that she was going to make sure that they had a gown or a tracksuit depending on injury, that their medical notes were checked and started up for their current stay, and that they were booked in. She could do that relatively quickly. She hoped that it wasn't someone with another serious injury. She was running a little late and she'd not had a full update from Anita due to Steve's arrival. She'd have to go through the electronic records but they'd not include all the little nuances that Anita had picked up about what was going on. The electronic notes were basically the medical facts, treatment regimes, and not the full stories.

"Stan? I've sent Lacey off to do something else? You've a new patient to issue?"

"We're still getting a couple in," Stan nodded. "You're not going to believe this one though. He decided that it wasn't important and he'd head back to barracks!" Stan exclaimed. "Didn't think it serious enough to warrant immediate attention?" He nodded toward the triage bay. Martha went in to see what Stan was talking about.

"Ned?" Martha looked at the soldier in the cubicle. He was sitting on the bed with a pillow on his lap and his arm resting on it. "You went back to barracks like that?" Martha checked with him.

"It didn't really hurt that much at the time."

"You know you've broken your arm don't you?"

"I figured that since it's not supposed to bend there," Ned confirmed with a nod of his head though he seemed rather nonchalant about it. "I was going to come back later when you're not so busy."

"Have you had any pain relief?"

"Just some of that gas stuff when Stan was taking my shirt off. I admit that was a bit sore," Ned commented.

"I will book you in then I'll have to get someone to do the scans for you. How did you do this?"

"I got hit from the alien when it was coming through our unit. It threw me back against the wall."

"Have you any other injuries?" Martha asked him. "That thing has been taking people right out of the picture, so if you did get hit I would expect to see more than a snapped arm. Is there anything else we need to be aware of?" Martha asked him.

"Um…"

"Ned?" Martha sighed. "I don't really have a lot of time for guessing games. I know you'd come in for a broken arm, so, what is it that you decided not to come in for?" Martha asked him.

"How do you know that?"

"I've got a patient base that is 85% male and includes an immortal and an alien, so, I know about people being daft about their injuries," Martha advised. "I've just dealt with an alien that let me check a cut on their head before they decided to tell me that leg was in fifteen bits, so , now I've checked your arm, what else do I have to look at?" Martha asked him straight.

"I've got a cut."

"Okay, that is the kind of thing we're seeing a lot of from people that have been in contact with the ghost," Martha commented. "Where is it?"

"There," Ned pointed at the pillow that was resting in his lap.

"Have you looked at the cut?"

"Not properly," Ned admitted. "Bit scared to, you know, with where it is. Don't want to find it hanging off."

"Is it not painful?"

"It's burning a bit, yeah."

"Lift your arm up for me," Martha got him to move his arm so he'd not get hurt by her doing to for him. She moved the pillow to the side so he could still rest his arm as comfortably as possible. It was a typical double forearm fracture so he'd probably end up getting a plate put on the radius at least. Martha was concerned that there was blood on the front of his trousers, but because like her, he was wearing the black cargo trousers it wasn't immediately visibly or recognisable as blood. Martha pulled some gloves on and then unfastened the button and the fly on his trousers. She didn't quite know what to expect. There was no tears or rips on the clothing. "Is the wound actually to your genitalia?" Martha asked him.

"I think it's to the side." Ned closed his eyes. He didn't want to look. He was worried that thing had ripped one of his balls off. He was sure of it, but he'd not looked and it didn't really hurt that much. All he had done was shove a load of toilet paper in his jockey shorts to keep the blood from running down his leg and then he'd ignored it. The blood running down his leg had been annoying and it had tickled. It was only when someone from admin had come into the barracks and noticed that his arm was bent that he was made to come straight back over.

"What is all this?" Martha sighed. He'd shoved toilet tissue into his pants. It was wet with blood and then when he'd moved around the tissue had broken into red balls that were sticking all over the wound and the pubic hair.

"The blood was running down my leg."

"And you didn't think to come in?" Martha sighed. "You're an idiot." She got her scissors and she cut his trousers and his shorts so she could have a proper look. She grabbed some gauzes and some sterile water and she cleaned around the cut. IT was long and deep but it ran about a centimetre away from his genitalia rather than through it.

"Has it ripped my balls off?"

"No," Martha commented. "You'll need some stitches but I don't think it's damaged you. Have you any pain in the area?"

"I'm not really sure. It's burning and sore, but I don't know if it is just the cut."

"There does not appear to be any testicular swelling or bruising. How about you have a feel to see if it hurts or not?" Martha suggested.

"I'm left handed," he advised sheepishly. It was his left arm that was snapped but Martha did not really fully understand why he couldn't use the other hand. She gently examined him and felt the testicle. There was some tenderness around the base of his penis but that was probably bruising to the pubis from the blow that had ripped his skin and snapped his arm through.

"I'll get someone to come and clean you up and stitch that wound, then they'll sort your arm out for you. If they can't get a good alignment conservatively they may need to operate, but that is a particularly common arm break that we usually refer to banana arm.2

"It is shaped a bit like a banana."

"You should not have gone back to the barracks," Martha scolded him. "I don't understand why you did not just come straight…"

"Control to Greyhound 6," the radio crackled.

Martha sighed and took her radio out. "Greyhound 6 receiving."

"Could you make your way to room Q1 at your earliest convenience?"

"That is received," Martha did not panic. Earliest convenience was alright. That didn't mean that Mace had taken a downturn or that the Doctor was in dire need. She hoped it just meant that Captain Price was waiting for her.

"Go on, love," Ned offered. "You've got more important things to do than look at my willy," he offered cheekily and winked. "Thank you for confirming it is still attached."

"You'll not be thinking us when we've got to pick all the little bits of tissue out of the cut," Martha warned. "At least you didn't use cotton wool I suppose."

"I didn't have any." Ned winced slightly. "I looked for some."

"While you're recovering I'm putting you back on a first aid course," Martha warned him. She tapped Ned's requirements into her tablet and forwarded it so he would get the treatment he needed. She really didn't understand why he'd gone back to the barracks rather than come and seek help. He was worried he'd had his genitalia mauled by the Harlequin so he had done his very best to ignore that and a bent arm and gone back to the barracks to do what? Make a cup of tea? It was asinine.

Martha made her way to the room where the Doctor was resting and Colonel Mace was recovering from his surgery. Captain Price had come down. Martha had intended to get the Colonel comfortable and then ring her in control and let her know that he was alright but would be needing to have surgery in the evening. It turned out she'd not had a chance to do that so she hoped that Captain Price was not too upset that she'd not got told that he was having surgery straight away. If she'd stopped to ring then she didn't think they'd be having the same conversation now, it would be an, I'm sorry it just happened so quickly and there was nothing we could do. Martha was friends with both Captain Price and Colonel Mace. Martha supposed that if there was any good that had come from the Doctor's previous visit with ATMOS and the Sontarans it was that Captain Price and Colonel Mace had finally got together after a rather unexpected kiss had dissolved the unspoken tension and chemistry between them. Martha was sure that the entire base had erupted into a roar of 'about time' when they had both admitted that they were 'courting'.

"Marion." Martha could see that she looked incredibly worried. Captain Price would have been in control during the incident and would have heard Mace being relieved of duty so she'd have known he was injured and would have been unable to leave her post. Martha was actually surprised that Marion had not called down to get an update herself.

"Martha? What's happened to him?" Marion asked with evident fear and concern. "I rang down and they said he was injured but not seriously. I even spoke to him and he said he was sore but was just waiting to be picked up because he had a cut on his leg? Now look at him?!" Marion despaired as she took in her fiancé. He was lying on the bed with the gutter splint bandaged around his leg so that it was held still and at an angle to keep his hip neutral and safe. He had a sheet over him so that he was covered over, but it only went up to his lower chest and he had electrodes stuck to his chest that were linked into the monitor. He had three separate drips going into him, one containing fluid and medication, one containing blood substitute and the third containing matched blood. He had a tube taped to the side of his mouth that was going down his throat and while he was not being actively ventilated that was linked to a machine that was providing him oxygen under pressure to encourage him to take long deep breaths while he remained under the anaesthetic. He was incredibly pale and had brown shadows under and around his closed eyes.

"Come and sit down," Martha suggested as she pulled the chair from beside the Doctor's bed over so they could both sit down. "There was a complication, Marion." Martha chose her words carefully. "He should still make a full recovery, but we had to take him straight into emergency surgery. We almost lost him, but he is now stable. We'll continue to monitor him very closely to ensure there is no recurrence. He is going to be sore and feeling pretty grotty for a couple of days. He lost a great deal of blood, over 80% of his blood volume, and, enough that we lost the pressure in his heart for a while. Now, I have seen no evidence that it has caused any damage to the heart muscle but we will be keeping a close eye on him over the next 24 hours as a minimum. We will be maintaining his blood pressure at a slightly lower level than normal to protect a repair that was done to the femoral artery in his groin which was the issue that he had," Martha advised.

"So, what has he done to himself?" Marion asked quietly as she reached over and rubbed his forearm.

"When I responded to him he presented with a serious wound to his hip and buttock area. I suspected and it was confirmed that the femur in his hip had been fractured. There is also a crack in the acetabulum which is the socket for his hip and part of his pelvis but that is not serious enough to warrant intervention. He is going to be sore as there is also a great deal of bruising associated to it, but he's lucky that his pelvis is intact. We were going to make him comfortable and then think about operating later this evening, but he started to bleed very significantly and we had to take him straight into theatre," Martha advised. "Do you know what an aneurism is?"

"In his brain?!" Marion panicked slightly. No one had said anything about his brain.

"No, not in his brain," Martha assured Marion calmly. "An aneurism can form in any artery. Alan has had a traumatic aneurism in his femoral artery. The artery wall was damaged but it did not immediately break through which is lucky or he would have died within a few minutes of the attack. Instead the weakened area of the artery wall swelled up like a balloon and when it became to significantly strained it burst. I have repaired the damage by removing the section of artery that was damaged and then resecting it together. I have strengthened it by covering it with a bit of vein and then have put a stent in which will make sure that it remains open and minimise the risk of it breaking down again. It is a small plastic cage that we expand within the artery and that will stay in position for ever. What we need to do is protect the artery by keeping his leg still and only doing some gently supervised exercises over the next week or so. We need to look at minimising the risk of blood clots forming. We will do regular blood tests to check for dimers in his blood which would indicate that a blood clot had formed, but, we will reassess him over the next few hours and consider whether we need to give him some blood thinners. When he has had such a significant blood loss and he has some serious wounds, not only that caused by the Harlequin but also the surgical incisions we want to give them a fighting chance to heal quickly and blood thinners can prevent normal clotting as well," Martha advised. "It is going to be a bit of a balancing act over the next couple of days. We've got stockings on him," Martha commented. She moved the sheet out of the way to reveal that the Colonel's uninjured leg had been placed in a full leg compression stocking. "He's got the same on both legs," Martha commented.

"He'll love them," Marion confirmed.

"They're not the most attractive of things, but it is going to be necessary until he is mobilising."

"And he's got a broken him? Is that like an old man broken hip?" Marion asked.

"I will tell him you said that," Martha commented. "But no, he's lucky that his bones are in good nick or it could be a lot worse for him. He took a direct blow from the Harlequin to his hip so that is a different mechanism and a different fracture pattern that you'd see with osteoporosis. I've put a metal nail right down the middle of his femur and a pin through the neck. It is all held together nicely. If it was not for the damage to his femoral artery we would be getting him up and out of bed tomorrow and getting him to start some immediate weight bearing exercises, but not now. He has a significant wound from the attack and the artery repair so it may be a week or so before we really let him have free movement. He is going to be sore, feeling unwell, and probably a bit grumpy," Martha advised.

"A bit?" Marion asked and shook her head. "He's going to be a nightmare."

"I was being polite." Martha smiled but she nodded.

"I wouldn't bother, Martha," Marion commented. "We both know what he is like."

"Yeah," Martha nodded. "But, he is going to need some looking after this time. He is going to have to be compliant and to behave with this. If we lose the arterial repair then it could be very quickly fatal. It is not my intention to scare him or you, but, that is the seriousness of what has happened to him today. At the moment he is stable and that is how we want to keep him. We need to wait for him to come round from the anaesthetic. I've fitted him with a self-administered morphine pump so that he will be able to manage his own pain relief, but he is going to be in quite considerable discomfort for a while, and, it is going to take him some time to get back to full fitness. He is lucky that he is so generally fit," Martha commented. "I know we both balk at the idea of running five miles a day, but, that has kept his bones strong and his heart strong and I think if he was not so fit then he could have been killed today. We'll see how he is feeling when he comes round from the anaesthetic but I expect him to be feeling tired and unwell for a while. He's not going to be out for much longer, and as soon as he starts to wake we'll start to take the tube out so he can breathe normally. We'll keep him on oxygen for the next couple of days just as he recovers," Martha advised.

"How long do you think he's going to be in here?"

"I can't answer that right now. I think it will be about a week. Obviously as he will be remaining on base and we can have easy access to him medically we can discharge him earlier than we would if he was in the community," Martha advised. She didn't normally live on base, but she thought that for the next week or so that she would have to make sure she was available not only for the Doctor but for everyone else.

"Are you going to leave him in here?" Marion asked Martha.

"What I don't want is for him to be moved into a general area of the hospital with the other patients. It will be hard for him to relax if he is in a ward with his men, and, it will also be harder for his men if he is in there as well. It is all very well suggesting there is no rank amongst the inpatients, but it doesn't work like that. I will be keeping him separated from his men." Martha nodded her confirmation.

"But are you keeping him in a room with him?" Marion indicated toward the Doctor.

"Probably."

"Do you think that is a good idea? He was pacing up and down last night because he was on site."

"Was he?" Martha couldn't help but smile slightly at that. She could just imagine the Colonel wearing a groove in the bedroom carpet ranting and muttering about the Time Lord turning up and causing so much disruption, especially since he'd been so rude to him. "We're not really able to spare much in the way of space at the moment. And, they are trying to be civil to each other. They do care about each other that much is obvious through the short interactions they've had over the past couple of days. Alan came into the room and didn't run away when we had to manipulate a fracture in the Doctor's leg and he was since invited the Doctor to call him Alan," Martha offered. "In terms of their recoveries they are both going to be in some discomfort for the next few days, the Doctor likely for a while longer than that. They are both also going to have to be compliant with their treatment."

"And, you think they are more likely to behave if they are in a room together?" Marion commented understanding what Martha was getting at.

"At least initially. They may well join forces against compliance and then if they do I will be splitting them up until they behave properly again," Martha commented. "What they will do is keep an eye on each other as far as possible, and, it won't do them any harm to be in the same room. With all the other patients we have gained over the past couple of hours we're going to be tight of space until everyone is sorted and we've got the hospital back in order," Martha advised. "I think it will be easier for Alan to share with the Doctor than it will be for him to share with any of his men. We may be able to go back to private rooms before the end of the day but at the moment we've got people on benches in the snooker room."

"Is he going to be okay?" Marion nodded over toward the Doctor.

"Yes, he's going to need several surgeries on his leg, but he will be alright eventually," Martha commented. "It is going to be months for him before he is fully fit again. It is going to take Alan two or three months to be back to full fitness. I am hoping that they will come to the point where they will support each other through that, or, at least compete a little about who is the most compliant and well-behaved during physiotherapy sessions."

"You are a sly one, Doctor Jones," Marion commented, but then she sighed and regarded the Colonel. He looked so unwell. How had it all changed so quickly? It had just been going to be a normal day, apart from the Time Lord being on site. Now it had all gone to Hell.

"He's going to be alright as well," Martha assured her seeing the concern in her expression. "He's pretty lucky to be honest. He will be unwell for a period, but he was subjected to a full on attack from the Harlequin and for some reason it didn't kill him. We've got 22 confirmed dead and 6 patients that remain on the critical list, three of them are especially sick."

"It is going to hit him hard," Marion sighed. "He is so proud of all of them of all the work they are doing and achieving and how far they are coming and in one morning it seems like it could all have been wiped out? He is going to be so upset about it all." Marion caressed Mace's head as he slept.

"I know, but what we can't do is allow him to let the deaths and injuries to the men and women under his command drive him to make bad choices with regard his own recovery. We will support him medically, but he is going to need you to help support him emotionally as well."

"I will be here with him," Marion confirmed.

"I know." Martha nodded. "For the next couple of days he is going to be on a high level of drugs, but for Alan that doesn't normally make him as drowsy as it should. All we need to do right now though is wait for him to wake up and then we will be trying to keep him calm and relaxed and to allow him to rest. He should sleep on and off over the next day or so after the anaesthetic and because we're keeping his blood pressure on the low side. We will make sure he is as comfortable as possible," Martha advised.

"Okay."

"As soon as Anita comes back I will be assigning her to monitor Alan, the Doctor, and three other patients so she will be around and available. If you have any questions about anything at all then you just need to ask."

And you're taking the Doctor into surgery?"

"Yes, as soon as the staff team and the theatre are available. All being well he will only be in surgery for an hour or so. All we're going to do is a temporary stabilisation on the mid-shaft fracture which has opened up in his leg. He's still too swollen for us to safely operate on his ankle or knee. Hopefully by stabilising the main fractures in his leg he will be more comfortable. Then I hope we may be able to step back a bit and see where we are with everything," Martha commented. She looked at her watch. It was half two in the afternoon. Time was just getting away from them. She knew they were going to be busy with patients right through the night.

Jack came into the room. Martha had pulled the door closed but not totally shut it and Jack didn't realise they were in there. He didn't knock as he was just popping in to see how the Doctor was doing and to make sure he remained asleep. Being out of the East Wing he was beyond the doors that were now working and that meant he would not be able to hear if the Doctor started to cry out if he started to wake again and he didn't want him to be without someone he knew with him. The nursing staff were all very good, he was sure of that since they worked for Martha, but they didn't know the Doctor and he didn't know them. That would make him feel uncomfortable. He thought perhaps one of them should stay with him in case he did start to wake up, but as he went in he saw that Martha was talking to someone about Colonel Mace. The way she was holding his hand and gently stroking his hair back from his head he guessed that it was Captain Price: Colonel Mace's fiancée.

"Oh, shit, sorry?" Jack realised he had just barged in on them. "I didn't realise you were in here?" Jack went to leave again.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you're fine," Martha assured him. "We're done talking business for a while. This is Captain Price. She is Colonel Mace's better half," Martha advised. "This is Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood. He's acting as liaison at the moment."

"Current Greyhound 2," Marion confirmed and nodded going to salute him. "We spoke on the radio net."

"Ma'am." Jack saluted her back.

"I am sure that you have made it easier for Alan to relax while he is hurt," Captain Price acknowledged.

"I hope so. I just popped in to see him?" Jack indicated toward the Doctor. "Is he?"

"He is still out of it," Martha offered.

"Good, that has to be better for him. He was crying with it, and not just with the nerve pain, it didn't stop. It was all the time."

"We will be taking him into surgery as soon as we can," Martha assured Jack.

"How long is it going to be?"

"A couple of hours maybe?"

"A couple of hours? Martha? He needs to go in quicker than that?" Jack worried. What would happen if he woke up again? He was in too much pain to be left waiting that long.

"Unfortunately his need is not as great as the need of those that are in surgery at the moment. I need to have my top anaesthetist with me when I go in with him as they're going to have to monitor him very closely. We need to keep him under but not take him too far under. I am also going to be taking an orthopaedic nurse in with me. I know James is coming in but he is only going to be advising if he's hurt. He's not going to be able to get hands on. Both Lauren and Barb are in surgery at the moment. As soon as that is complete and they are ready to go again I will be taking him in."

"Can't you swap them over in the surgery they are in now?" Jack asked desperate for the Doctor to be taken care of.

"They are operating on someone who is critically injured and who needs their expertise, so no, I am not going to swap them over. Just as you would not want me to operate on the Doctor with a less experienced team, I will not be sending a less experienced team in with a critically injured patient and I certainly won't be swapping a team halfway through an operation."

"Who are they operating on?" Captain Price asked.

"Jamie Norton," Martha commented.

"Oh, that is the girl that James was looking after isn't it?" Jack realised. "She was in a pretty bad way."

"Which is why we need to get her stable and have her surgery completed. Then we will look at sorting out the team for the Doctor. I'm sorry that he's hurt and I am sorry that is causing him pain, but at the moment he is unconscious. I can't prioritise his leg over critical injuries and I'm not taking him into surgery unless I am confident that I have the right team. All the surgeries that are going on right now are lifesaving ones. I know it is awful that he is in so much pain, it hurts me too, but it's not going to kill him," Martha advised Jack seriously though he knew that she didn't like having to do it.

"I hope it doesn't," Jack commented. "I am not sure how much more he will be able to take before he just regenerates." He went over to the Doctor's bedside and caressed his head.

"We will get him into surgery as soon as we safely can, Jack. I have to prioritise the surgeries that are going to save lives."

"I know," Jack confirmed. "I do know that, Martha. I just can't stand seeing him like this."

"He will be alright." Martha went over and hugged Jack. She was happy to feel his strong arms around her as if he could block out all the responsibility she felt right then and she could just be Martha Jones for a moment rather than medic and medical director and all the things that went with that in a crisis. "We're doing all that we can in the best order that we can," Martha commented as she rested her head against Jack's chest.

"I'm so proud of you," Jack commented and he kissed her on the top of the head. To Captain Price it seemed like an odd thing for him to say to Martha as she watched the interaction between friends, but it wasn't. "You're brilliant. Don't let anyone tell you differently," Jack commented. "Especially not me."

"Pft, I don't listen to you anyway." Martha chuckled.

"Oh? Why not?" Jack pouted.

"Because you've got no sense," Martha teased him slightly, then looked over toward the Doctor. "Not when it comes to him."


	34. Chapter 34

Martha sat in with Colonel Mace and the Doctor for a while. It was not going to be long before Colonel Mace started to come round and he'd need the tube removed from his throat so he did not start to choke and gag on it. Captain Price was brought a cup of tea, but when Martha was offered she declined. It wasn't appropriate for her to be sitting drinking coffee. If she'd not been sitting outside drinking coffee and appearing to chat with Anita then she'd not have triggered Steve off. He would have exploded somewhere else, but she did not want anyone else to get a wrong impression. She did not sit but she stood at the wall and reviewed all the electronic notes for the patients they had booked in. They were being constantly updated as people received additional treatment and she could get a reasonable view of what all the staff were doing by looking at the updates.

There were several patients that were really concerning her and she pulled the medical records for Blue Rigsby up, though she didn't open any of the attached pictures. She didn't want Captain Price to look over and end up having nightmares or for one of Blue's friends to come in and see it. They were going to be for medical eyes only and only on need to know. Martha wasn't sure she was going to be able to shake many of the images of the day from her mind's eye for a long time yet. She felt like she'd been caught up on the set of a budget horror movie and any minute the director was going to come out screaming and shouting because of the thousands of pounds that they'd spent on the set and make up and they were all cleaning it up. Martha thought back to one of her favourite scenes in the Lethal Weapon series when Martin Riggs had jumped on a mugger who was attacking Rhianne Murtagh. She'd had many a fight with Tish about which one of them was going to be Rhianne when they were growing up. It was one of their favourite movies, of course, in the Lethal Weapon series there was no spectre of divorce around the Murtagh family table and now she was grown she wondered if that was some of the appeal of the stories to her and her siblings. She forced her mind back to the medical records. The only director that was supposed to be orchestrating things was her and she couldn't afford to hide in sentiment.

"Martha?" Marion called her over. "I think he's starting to wake up?" She rubbed her fingers down Colonel Mace's cheek. "Alan? Can you hear me? Alan, Sweetie?"

"Let's just see," Martha gently opened his eyes one at a time and checked the pupil response with her pen light. He was definitely coming round again. "Alan, it's Martha, it's time to wake up now," she instructed more formally than Marion had. "Come on, Alan, let's be having you." Martha rubbed his shoulder with her knuckles to rouse him. As soon as he tensed she got a grip of the tube in his throat. She peeled the tape off that was holding it across his cheek and then she twisted the collar to deflate the balloon holding it in place within his trachea and she pulled it slowly up out of his windpipe. It caused Colonel Mace to cough and gag a little as Martha retrieved it.

"There we go, all done, that is better isn't it?" Martha asked. She got the oxygen mask and put it over his nose and mouth. She'd have to watch his blood oxygen levels didn't fall now the tube was gone. "Open your eyes, Alan," Martha instructed. His eyes opened a crack for a couple of seconds and then closed again. Martha smiled and caressed his cheek and repositioned the elastic from the mask away from a slight bruise that was developing on the side of his cheekbone. "Marion is here so you better wake up properly or you're going to be in trouble."

"I'll do it in a minute," Colonel Mace slurred and grumbled.

"You'll do what?" Martha asked him.

"Leave me alone, I'm sleeping, it's not time yet," he complained. His voice was still thick with the sedation as the anaesthetic lingered. Once they wore off and he was given a normal dose of morphine he'd be back to being so clear headed it was amazing. They'd still not be taking orders from him and he'd not be put in a position where he had to give them. Any tactical contribution from him would be clarified. They'd certainly not be letting him behind the wheel of a car on the morphine, but she was sure that if he was made to take a sobriety test that he'd be able to walk in a straight line on it. If his hip had not been smashed by a malevolent alien.

"Come on Alan, it is time to wake up," Martha insisted.

"Where's the lead?" Colonel Mace asked.

"The lead?"

"He thinks he needs to take Nelson for a walk," Marion realised. "It's okay. Alan, you don't need to walk the dog. He's had his walk already this morning," Marion assured him.

"You still need to wake up though," Marion commented. Nelson was a well-loved member of their base. He was a bit of a mascot for the base and it was not unusual to see either Alan or Marion walking him around the main buildings. He was Alan's dog. He was a three legged chocolate Labrador crossed with something very cheeky that they weren't entirely sure about. Possibly some kind of Spaniel. He had lost a front leg when he was only a few weeks old and before Alan had taken him on as a puppy. Nelson managed as well as any other dog with four legs and he was generally inseparable from Alan. They had not planned any kind of action that day so Nelson was probably sitting in the basket in Colonel Mace's office at the moment so at least his secretary would be taking care of him. They wouldn't have to worry about him at all while Mace recovered and then recuperated, there would be plenty of offers to assist.

"Come on Alan, time to wake up," Martha repeated when he still hadn't fully materialised from the land of the nod.

"Will you stop pestering?" Alan asked with an exhausted sounding sigh.

"There are no promises." Martha chuckled. "It depends on if you behave or not."

"Can I have a coffee?"

"Not just now. You can have a sip of orange," Martha offered. There was a jug of orange squash in the room and two plastic beakers with straws. She'd never image that for the Colonel and the Doctor. Martha poured an inch into the bottom of one of the beakers and positioned the straw to the Colonel's lips. "Have a sip of this, Alan, it will freshen your mouth up."

He took a drink of it, draining the beaker straight away. It was why Martha had only put an inch in. The thirst following intubation and oxygen therapy was often just a precursor to the body's rejection of all food and fluid following an anaesthetic. She did not want him to gulp down the squash only for it to make a rapid exit again. "How is that?" Martha asked him kindly. "Better?"

"I'd prefer a coffee."

"No caffeine for now. Now until we're happy with you. I can get you a decaff coffee if you want?"

"What is the point of that?" Colonel Mace grumbled.

"Well exactly," Martha chuckled. "You may as well just stick to the orange squash hadn't you? Now, are you awake?"

"It seems I have no choice but to be. You're not going to leave me alone to sleep, are you?"

"Not just yet," Martha confirmed. "When I go I am sure that Marion is going to start as well. We're like a tag team," Martha teased him. "I'd like to know how you're feeling."

"You're the doctor."

"Oh, now, grumpy?" Martha warned him softly. "There is no need for that much grumpiness. We're not going to have months of this are we, or, I think Marion and I will just take our leave. We've both got plenty of it due," Martha reminded him.

"We were talking about going to Tenerife," Marion advised Martha. "My sister has got an apartment in a quiet part away from all the clubs and kids. We were talking about taking a couple of weeks out there just yesterday. Now Nelson has got his doggy passport it is even better, but, if Alan is going to be out of action for a while? Perhaps you'd like to come with me, Martha?" Marion asked and winked at her.

"Oh, that would be lovely. I've not been to Tenerife, I've been to Gran Canarias and to Las Palmas but not Tenerife. How far up Mt Tiede can you get?"

"Almost right up into the crater," Marion advised. "It's due to blow soon. You probably won't want to put off going there too long."

"Is the sand black in Tenerife?" Martha asked.

"Yeah, it is, and quite coarse. If you want sand then the best beach we've seen in Europe is Malia in the North of Crete. Wow it's beautiful and a lagoon so you can go a hundred yards off shore and the water is still only knee deep. It really is quite something."

"It sounds beautiful."

"Perhaps we should go there instead?" Marion offered. They both tried to keep a straight face as they discussed where they were going to go on holiday over the top of the Colonel's bed. Alan's eyes were open and he was looking rather indignant as he tried to work out if they were actually just going to take leave and abandon him.

"Hello." Martha chuckled. "Awake now then?"

"Hi."

"Welcome back, love." Marion took his hand and kissed him on the cheek just beside the oxygen mask.

"What happened?" Colonel Mace asked. He was curious as to what was so different now. He was sure he'd only just drifted off and now they were fussing over him. He admitted he didn't feel too well. He had been talking hadn't he and now he was waking up and not only was his hip and side as painful as it had been but he felt quite lethargic and strange and light headed too.

"You've had surgery, Alan," Martha told him.

"Already?"

"Yes, you had some damage to the femoral artery that didn't show in the initial scans. The pressure caused it to burst. You're lucky we were all here at the time and the Doctor first noticed that you were simply fading out. We got you into surgery and have repaired the damage. Now you just need to heal, but you lost almost 80% of your blood volume so you need to be aware that your body has been under immense strain leading into and during the surgery, including your heart that was trying to run on empty. So you're going to need some time just to recuperate as well now. You're going to be fine, but you need to rest and you need to let us look after you."

"Heart attack?" Mace asked her.

"If your ticker wasn't in such good nick you probably would have had a heart attack and while I'd not say you have, your heart did struggle to maintain its rhythm. There is no damage to the heart muscle that we can tell and it is beating well now, but we will be keeping a close eye on you and we're going to be keeping your blood pressure medically on the low side to reduce the pressure within your femoral artery, so it may make you feel a bit weak and dizzy. It is necessary and we'll not be giving you anything that will increase your heart rate and blood pressure for a couple of days, and that includes caffeine, so that is not tea, no coffee, no chocolate, and no cola – unless it is one of the caffeine free varieties. We have repaired your artery and we've also stabilised and fixed the breaks in your femur. You've got a metal rod down the centre of your femur and we've put a pin across the neck of it to secure the joint. What we need to watch is that you quickly adjust to losing the bone marrow from the femur. You're fit enough that it should not be a problem but we will be keeping an eye on you with the blood that you lost. You're probably going to be feeling under the weather for a few days, so you're going to need to rest, but there are also some things I need you to watch out for," Martha told him seriously. "I need to know if you experience any new pain in your leg. If you feel breathless at all, or if you have any pain in your chest or your head."

"Blood clots?" Colonel Mace proved that he was awake and listening and also fairly up to speed on the risk of medical complications. He was an advanced first aid and field medic himself.

"It is a risk due to the damage to your artery," Martha confirmed. "We're going to take regular bloods from you, but at the moment we're still waiting for our lab back."

"Where is the ghost?" Colonel Mace suddenly remembered there was more at stake than him feeling sore and ropey. As he recalled he instinctively tried to sit up and became acutely aware that ropey and sore were two understatements as his hip screamed at him in competition with the dizziness and nausea that combatted the pain in his hip as to which was going to succeed over him first. He always tried not to. He always tried to be in control of himself, not matter the situation, because he was the base commander, but he lost his composure and he groaned.

"Easy, Alan, this is exactly what you need to avoid," Martha commented. "Take deep breaths and relax." Martha checked the speed of the drip. It was providing him all kinds of medications and he had a clicker fitted so he could manage his own level of morphine. Martha took it and clicked it for him. There were three doses waiting for him so she gave him two of them and the morphine was pushed into the drip reservoir and flowed in through the canola. It was monitored to give him up to the maximum dose without overdosing him, but he could control how much and how regularly he had top ups.

"I've put you on a self-administration system for your morphine." Martha handed him the clicker. "There is one left in there if you need it. It won't let you overdose and the drug will become available as you can have it. If the pain gets too much you just push the button and you will get another shot." Martha knew it was important for the Colonel to maintain some kind of control and choice in the matter even if it was just in how often he pressed the button. "If you need it then you use it," she insisted.

"Okay, thank you, but, where is the ghost?"

"It is in the morgue?"

"Is it dead?"

"We're not entirely sure. I will get Captain Jack to come and give you a full update on that when we've finished talking about you."

"Are we not finished?" the Colonel asked quietly.

"I'm not entirely sure how much you have taken in," Martha admitted.

"I'm awake now."

"Okay, good, I am still not sure how much of it you have taken in. You really need to take this seriously, Alan," Martha advised. "It is not my normal practise to try to scare my patients, but your femoral artery burst and you were literally about 30 seconds from dead," Martha told him plainly. "For the first couple of days at least we need to let that artery heal. You need to lie still and we need to make sure your blood pressure remains on the low side. We will do what we can but if it becomes clear you're not able to relax then I will have to give you more medication that will make you feel drowsy and that will make you feel worse."

"Got it," Colonel Mace commented. "Don't move, don't get stressed, don't drink coffee, don't sit up, watch out for blood clots, watch out for anaemia, going to fill ropey because my blood pressure is low, and I've got metal rods in my leg."

"And, make sure you take the morphine if you need it."

"Yes."

"I mean it, Alan, if you're in pain then that will have a physical effect and your heart rate and blood pressure can increase. If you're hurting press the button and if there is a dose available you will get it. If you're maxed out on the morphine and you're still hurting then you don't press the clicker but you press the call button and you let one of us know."

"I will," Alan agreed. He pressed the clicked and gave himself another shot in a show of good faith, and because it was hurting him.

"You'll be okay," Captain Price assured him and held his hand. "We'll all make sure that you don't need to worry about anything. Everything is under control and I'll be here with you."

"Thank you, dear." Colonel Mace smiled at her weakly. His eyes started to close again and it looked like he was going to fall back to sleep. That was perfectly alright as far as Martha was concerned, but he didn't seem to want to as he blinked. "Can I have another drink please?" he asked. Marion poured him some orange into the beaker and he sipped it through the straw and then pulled a face. "I'd much rather have a Scotch."

"Not on your life," Martha warned and he chuckled slightly. "Please."

"I won't," Colonel Mace confirmed. "Anyway, talking about pains…" he offered cheekily and looked across to the other side of the room toward the Doctor's bed. "He asleep is he?"

"Oh, don't be mean to him," Captain Price commented and chuckled.

"He is more unconscious than asleep at the moment. We're waiting to get him into surgery. I'm not entirely sure what happened because I was in theatre with you. While we were in there the ghost attacked. It came down in here, within the East Wing."

"It was supposed to be safe in here."

"I know, but it came down through the extraction vents. It came down in the room next door initially."

"Was anyone in there?"

"Yeah," Martha confirmed. "Lieutenant Tom Vance and Corporal John Oliver were both in there. So was Maggie Taylor. They were all killed," Martha announced sadly. "It went back into the vent and then came back down in here. The Doctor's bed was tipped over in the melee that followed. They did manage to get the Harlequin contained and Captain Jack used liquid nitrogen on it, but the Doctor's leg didn't fare too well. The main unstable fracture in his mid-shin that has been causing him issue became open and the bone has protruded through the skin. We will be taking him into surgery to do a temporary fix on that when I had a team available for him. It has caused him significantly more pain and he is unconscious at the moment."

"More pain?" Colonel Mace asked.

"Yeah."

"Poor bugger."

"Do you want Martha to find you somewhere else for you, Alan?" Captain Price asked. "So, you don't need to share a room with him?" she caressed his head. If he said that he did want that then they'd be able to find somewhere for him, she was sure of it.

"Not just now," Colonel Mace commented. He sounded worn out. "He is like a child in some ways," Colonel Mace commented and looked over toward him.

"What do you mean, love?" Marion asked.

"He's okay when he is asleep."

"I think that is what you need to be doing, Alan," Martha advised. "You need to conserve your energy for healing. When you're feeling tired you just need to tell us to shut up and leave you alone so you can sleep."

"I was trying to do that when you were waking me up."

"That was different." Martha grinned at him. "I was waking you up to make sure you would wake up easily, now you're awake you can go back to sleep. You should go back to sleep."

"I want an update first."

"Maybe you should have a sleep first?" Captain Price suggested. "You've got to recover and to rest, not worry about everything going on. You've other people in place to do that."

"How can I rest unless I know those people are safe?" Mace asked quietly. Marion smiled sympathetically and kissed him on the cheek.

"Let's sort this out and then I will get Jack to come and give you a very quick update," Martha commented. She had monitored his oxygen levels and they had not fluctuated at all going from intubation to mask, so, in order for him to rest more comfortably she was going to take him to a nasal canola. She got the line and hooked it round his ears so that it was positioned against his nose and he could breathe the oxygen from there rather than the mask. "Make sure you breathe through your nose regularly," Martha warned. "I will be putting the mask back on if your oxygen levels drop at all, but they seem to be holding, and that will be better for you."

"That is better though isn't it?" Marion asked him. She put her hands to his cheeks and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"No snogging until we're sure his oxygen levels are going to remain secure," Martha warned and chuckled when the Colonel frowned at her. Marion caressed his head and then held his hand gently just wanting him to know she was there. He sighed and winced slightly.

"Do you need to use your clicker?" Marion asked him quietly.

"I'm okay."

"You don't need to suffer, Alan, if you're in pain it is important we control it," Martha reminded him. "Please, if you're in pain then use the clicker or I will be forced to take it off you and administer the drugs through the drip."

"Okay." The Colonel pressed the clicker and within a few seconds seemed to have relaxed a little bit more.

"Good," Martha acknowledged. "Now, I will go and get Jack to come and give you a brief update so you can go to sleep satisfied things are in order."

"And that young lad," Mace commented. "Private Ethan Coates, I want to hear his take on things too."

"I'll get him," Martha advised. "Then you sleep."

Martha went out of the room reasonably happy with how Colonel Mace had recovered from the anaesthetic. She would get Jack in to give him a short update as she was aware that he would not be able to relax no matter how unwell and tired he was feeling until he found out all that he had missed. Martha wasn't entirely sure what had happened either. She'd got half a medical update and gone through the electronic records so she knew how was in her hospital, but the actual way in which the Harlequin had come down into the East Wing and then been captured remained somewhat sketchy.

Martha went across the corridor just outside the East Wing to the store room that had been set up as a temporary centre of operations after she'd kicked them out of the Doctor's room so that they could rest properly. Major Starkey was in there along with Sarah Jane and Wilfred but it was Jack she was looking for.

"How are you doing, love?" Wilfred asked kindly as she popped her head in. "Are things settling down for you yet? How is the Doctor doing? Is it going to be long until you can see to him?" he asked the questions one after another realising as he was doing so that he was bombarding her somewhat but he was anxious and worried, especially for those young men and women who had faced that ghastly ghostly alien and for the Doctor who had been screaming time and time again in his arms. He had never seen a man in such pain before and for it to be that wonderful Doctor?

"I'm still waiting for surgery to finish on another patient so I can have the appropriate staff to take in with me for the Doctor," Martha commented. "He's still unconscious at the moment. It may be an hour or more before I can take him in, so I just hope that he remains asleep. I have just come from his room and he is sleeping. Colonel Mace is awake and Captain Price is in there with him, so they will let us know if the Doctor needs anything. I think it is probably best we risk disturbing him as little as possible. I am actually looking for Jack though? Have you any idea where I would find him?"

"He went with James?" Wilfred hoped that Martha would know where they were going because although that was where he went he wasn't sure where it was that he'd gone. "To get some things ready for the Doctor from a store room?"

"Okay, thanks," Martha acknowledged. She knew where he would be.

"Is there anything we can do, Martha?" Sarah Jane asked her.

"There are some pretty worried people with minor injuries that are waiting slightly longer than I would like to receive the appropriate care. I am sure that some of them could do with some company. I know you have been doing that already Sarah Jane. I hope you know how important that is, if you could continue I would appreciate it? It would take some of that pressure off my staff as well."

"We will both go and do that, love," Wilfred commented.

"Thank you," Martha accepted. "Is Private Coates down with Jack as well?"

"I don't think so. Jack suggested that he went and got some fresh air. I think he's pretty upset about a young man called Blue," Wilfred advised.

"I saw Blue," Sarah Jane announced. "He was convulsing."

"You saw him?" Martha was stunned. "Before his injuries were dressed?"

"No, he was all bandaged up," Sarah Jane confirmed. "But, they did say that his face has gone?" Sarah Jane felt a bit sick just thinking about the possibility of someone's face just being gone?

"I think Ethan is pretty close to him," Wilfred advised. "They live in the same barracks."

"From what I remember I think they actually share a bunk," Martha realised. "If he comes back in could you ask him to wait here? If he's not back by the time I return I will go and find him. Colonel Mace has asked to have a word with him."

"How is the Colonel?"

"He's sore and worn out. He will be exhausted for a few days, but we're hopeful. All the signs are good at the moment. Captain Price is sitting with him, but he wants Jack to give him an update before he goes to sleep."

"He wants Jack to?" Major Starkey checked wondering why he didn't want her to give him the update when she was Greyhound 2.

"He is the number two," Martha advised. "It is standard practise. As number one you're dealing. The number two provides the updates to you but he will also provide them to Colonel Mace. I will go down and see how he is getting on with James and make sure they have not killed each other in the store room."

"I think Jack is just happy to be able to do something that might assist with the Doctor," Wilfred commented. He felt for the Captain. It was plain to see that he cared very deeply for the Time Lord.

"I am sure he is," Martha confirmed. She went down to the medical store where all the sterile surgical equipment was kept including all the stock orthopaedics nails, pins, bolts, plates, and screws that might be used to repair the damaged skeletons of their patients. She knew James had been working on the fixation for the Doctor and had put his plan together right down to the serial numbers of the pins he was wanting to use. As far as that initial stabilisation Martha did not see that the injury becoming open would actually change the way in which they managed it providing that there was no infection. At least it had opened in the East Wing and in the quarantine room that had just been deep cleaned. It was not as if there was going to be a huge amount of dirt. The last time she had dealt with an open tibia fracture she had been pulling grass out of the bone end and washing mud out of the wound. His at least was going to be clean.

When she went into the store Jack and James were both in there. Jack was up on the step ladder looking for things off the top shelf while James was leaning both on his crutches and the back wall of the store room. "Doctor Jones?" James was surprised to see her in there and he straightened up a bit. "Are you after me or after Jack or after some sort of stock?"

"Jack actually."

"What's up?" Jack asked her from his position on the step ladder.

"Colonel Mace is awake and would like an update. I would like you to provide him with a concise update of the events that he has missed concentrating on the current containment and security of the ghost so that he can get some rest."

"Okay, I'm just looking for a last pin to complete the set," Jack advised. He rummaged through a box of short pins. They were all sealed in plastic but they still chinked together when he rummaged. HE found the one with the right serial number. He jumped down and collected all of the bits up so that they were in a tray. There were three long pins, two cross braces, a ball of orthopaedic wire and three screws.

"You two go on ahead and I will catch up in a minute," James suggested.

"No, come on," Jack insisted. He wanted Martha to see just how uncomfortable the medic was. Jack picked the tray up to take down to surgery two where they were going to take the Doctor. He didn't like to think that they were going to be hammering the long pins right through the Doctor's leg so that they showed on both sides and went right through the middle of the bone. He just hoped that it was all going to help. James had added some pins to the list and some wire as he thought that they might be able to do some more work to help him now that there was a wound tract. He would be able to do it without making the wound significantly worse. Jack just hoped it would minimise the pain enough for the Doctor to tell Jack how to get the vortex manipulator working again. He; already tried to reset the teleport code but the oscillating numbers did not work anymore. The Doctor was going to have to reset it so he could go and get him some decent Time Lord friendly pain killers that would work on his biology more effectively than human ones. He'd do anything not to hear him screaming ever again.

"Okay," Martha paused before they got out the door of the store room. She had seen James on crutches far too many times because of his knee and he was a confident crutch user. He was tentative and slow and not swinging through the crutches but hopping awkwardly. He was pale and he looked tired. "Just stop there, James."

"Go on ahead. I'm fine."

"You know I'm totally sick of people who are not fine telling me they are fine," Martha complained slightly exasperated. "As if we do not have enough to do and enough to worry about without everything turning into some kind of guessing game?" she scolded him seriously. "I need you to be able to advise when we operate on the Doctor. You can have a stool in there, but this is not good enough," Martha told him. "Stay where you are."

"Martha?" James groaned and sighed.

"No, don't Martha me, I've had enough," she complained. She went out of the room and got into the next door storeroom. In there were all the mobility aids they had. Crutches, frames, tripod sticks, and in the back there where wheelchairs with a range of different leg rests. She grabbed a left sided elevating leg rest and shoved it into a folded wheelchair and then she tipped it up onto the back wheels and pushed it out still folded. She took it to James, opened it out, and got him to sit in it. She put the leg rest on and adjusted it so he had his leg up. He grimaced as he raised his leg up onto it.

"I'll get that then," Jack offered. He put the tray of pins into James's lap as the medic held that and his crutches. James sighed as Jack pushed him down the corridor, but he didn't admit that it was a relief.

"Right, you, up on that couch," Martha instructed James as she went to a room just outside the East Wing that was cleared and opened back up. There was no space left in the East Wing now, but he was the first to move back into the corridor. "I am going to update Colonel Mace with Jack and then I am going to come back and see to you before you end up doing yourself damage that we can't reverse without surgery. There are only so many times we can fix you up until we can't achieve a reasonable result."

"I know."

"I will be back in a few minutes." Martha left James to get himself up onto the bench in the room. She didn't know if he would be able to do it, but she knew he didn't take too many risks. If he couldn't he'd not try. In that regard he was sensible. She went with Jack in to see Colonel Mace. She had hoped he would have gone back to sleep already. He had his eyes closed and there was nothing on his expression to say he was awake. Marion was holding his hand and they looked quite relaxed if Mace had not been bone white and exhausted. He had monitors and oxygen and drips. The Colonel opened his eyes as soon as Martha went back in with Jack.

"Captain Harkness," the Colonel acknowledged.

"Sir," Jack nodded and then saluted formally.

"Doctor Jones suggested you may be able to give me an update?"

"Yes Sir."

"And, where is Private Coates?"

"He is taking a few minutes, Sir," Jack advised. "I am sure he will be back shortly, Sir. He is just um, blowing some steam."

"Blowing some steam?"

"Unfortunately Private Blue Rigsby has been seriously hurt, Colonel," Martha advised. "He is one of our top three critical list at the moment. If he does make it then he is going to have considerable life changing injuries."

"Private Rigsby and Private Coates are friends are they not?" Colonel Mace checked.

"They are bunk mates," Martha confirmed.

"We're making sure that Private Coates is okay, but he did need to take some time out, Sir. It is his first action and he has behaved impeccably. He is handling himself very well, but we also need to ensure that the young men and women under your command who have not witnessed live action before receive the appropriate emotional support."

"All the men and women are going to receive the appropriate emotional support, Captain," Colonel Mace advised him. "That Harlequin struck us in our very heart and with no advanced warning, but, thank you for taking care of him."

"I will keep an eye on him, Sir," Jack confirmed.

"Okay, Good. What can you tell me about what happened with the Harlequin Ghost?" Colonel Mace asked him.

"We were studying the ventilation and extraction points," Jack advised. "We realised that it was most likely to come down here because the administration building and the autopsy lab were both flooded with cold air and it has been behaving like an exothermic organism. Before we could evacuate this area it came down in the room next door. I attempted to intercept and halt it but I was in this room and I was too late. It killed the occupants in that room in a matter of seconds and then went back up into the ceiling. IT had changed tactic. It then started to come down here," Jack pointed up to the bared extraction point in the ceiling. There was some blood smeared on the ceiling that would have been from one of the victims in the other room.

"Directly over the Doctor's bed?" Captain Price realised.

"Yes Ma'am," Jack confirmed. "The cover fell on top of him. We don't think it injured him specifically. Private Coates and Wilfred attempted to push his bed out of the way so he was not in it's direct line of sight. It came down. The Doctor's bed tipped over and we believe that th Doctor deliberately hauled Private Coates and Wilfred over the side of the bed and on top of him in an attempt to protect them from the attack," Jack explained.

"The Doctor protected them?" Martha asked a little surprised that he had been able to. She sighed and shook her head slightly, that was just like him wasn't it?

"The Doctor's leg was obviously highly painful," Jack advised.

"It is quite possible that it is the strain of him pulling two grown men over the bed that caused the fracture to open and not the actual fall off the bed since he was cast," Martha suggested.

"He was screaming, Martha," Jack fretted. "I think he had to be broadcasting the pain telepathically as well. I felt it as well as heard it, but, I think it caused the Harlequin to stall. I don't know if that is how they actually communicate with each other. The ghost definitely screamed when attacking," Jack confirmed.

"I heard it," Mace announced. "When it attacked me. It was screeching so loudly in my head."

"Some of the men and women are finding that a bit unnerving," Martha confirmed recalling how Lynn had been upset about it being in her head as much about being attacked.

"I think the Doctor actually got into its head. His leg was hurting him so much that he broadcast right back at the Harlequin and it seemed to stall. James Lloyd then dived on the Harlequin to try to contain it," Jack advised them. "It threw him off and then I managed to pin it down and pour liquid nitrogen onto it. It slowed it right down and we got it to the morgue where it has been sealed in a drawer," Jack advised.

"Is it dead?"

"It had stopped moving at all by the time we got it to the drawer. We don't quite know how to tell if it is dead or not. It was presumed to be dead when it arrived," Jack commented. "We believe that the Doctor tried to tell us something about it glowing and that perhaps it won't display any iridescence when subject to X-ray and MRI if it is dead. We have not yet tested that as James pointed out that it gains energy through heat it may also gain energy from other sources so we want to confirm exactly what the Doctor had said before we don anything."

"But it is secured?"

"Yes. We have reduced the morgue drawer temperature down as far as it goes and we have also reduced the ambient temperature in the morgue. I have a team positioned in the morgue who are standing guard at the drawer. I also have a guard in the corridor at the rear of the morgue in case it is not dead and it is able to break out the back of the drawers. The engineering team have built a prototype liquid nitrogen weapon. The guard within the morgue has that and they are off building a few more to arm the other units as well just in case. We have also been in liaison with a local supplier of liquid nitrogen and are getting an emergency delivery ot it. That should be here within the next hour. We should have two or three members of each standby unit equipped with liquid nitrogen weapons by the end of the day. I don't want to stand that down just in case there is further issue," Jack offered. "But we believe that the ghost is secured adequately in the morgue. The weapons and the guards are additional precautions."

"You are satisfied that it is contained?"

"Yes Sir, it is contained, it is under guard, the guards know how to stop it if it does appear it is no longer dormant. Once the Doctor is more capable of communicating we will confirm that it is safe to get it out and X0ray it and we believe that will confirm if it is dead or not. As it only has a very short life span of a few days it is possible that it is now deceased anyway."

"What about the cage?" Colonel Mace asked.

"We have not been able to further pursue that avenue at the present time."

"Why not?"

"Because the Doctor remains in too much pain."

"Forgive me, Captain, while I know that the Doctor is both your friend and that he is scientific advisor for UNIT we do have our in house scientific team. They would have done the analysis had the Doctor not arrived and I am sure they are more than capable of performing the basic tests required. They should be engaged in it until the Doctor is able, and, from what I have heard it may be some considerable time until the Doctor is able to frequent the labs in order to do the tests. He will be welcome to once he is able, but, I will be led my Doctor Jones as to when she believes that may be appropriate. We cannot wait that long to complete the analysis. While my team may not have the knowledge of the Harlequin that the Doctor has, I am sure they will be able to complete the analysis of the cage material and perhaps provide further information to the Doctor for his comment, consideration, and advice once he is more recovered," the Colonel advised.

"Yes, Sir."

"If it does turn out that the Harlequin does remain alive then we may need to find a way of containing it outside the morgue," the Colonel suggested. "I don't want that work stopped, nor do I want to rely on the Doctor's expertise. That is not why he is here. He is here because he is injured and he needs treatment and to be given the opportunity to recover."

"I will see to it, Sir," Jack confirmed. Had Colonel Mace suggested that he didn't want the Doctor involved because he was not UNIT then he may have argued, but he agreed with him and had a conversation with Major Starkey about it which near echoed what had been said to him. He did not tell the Colonel that it was Major Starkey who had insisted that the UNIT scientists would not be available due to the lab being outside the current safe zone. Jack would have got them to open up the labs, or, to go into the engineering section. They had been able to build the liquid nitrogen weapons, he was sure they had the relevant equipment to do some basic analysis on an iron rod. There wasn't much to do was there? It had been in contact with a magnet at some point because it had been loosely magnetised, but other than that it was an iron rod. He would get them to open up the labs as soon as possible, get a standby unit down there just in case with a liquid nitrogen weapon, and then they could get on with the analysis. The pathology lab would need longer to be put back into use because of the door and the blood that had been spilled in there along with the equipment and desks that James had upturned, but the other labs had not been damaged at all. He would have to go out and tell Major Starkey that Colonel Mace wanted the rod analysed in house and then he would let her issue the orders.

Martha studied Jack. She could see that he was thinking things through rather than simply accepting them and she wondered if he was going to argue about not giving it to the Doctor, but then Jack knew how unwell he was. He would know that the information was also quite important, so, it was unlikely that he was the one pushing for it to remain unanalysed. "Perhaps we should get Major Starkey in and you could tell her the new orders directly?" Martha suggested to the Colonel. "Then, I want you to rest. As much as it is not appropriate to be relying on the Doctor while he is incapacitated, you are also incapacitated and you need to rest. It sounds to me like everything is under control as far as possible," Martha advised. "With only some minor details to change, which, I believe if Jack was given a free rein would be more sensibly dealt with."

"Very well."

"Jack, could you ask Major Starkey to step in for a moment?" Martha asked.

"Yes Ma'am," Jack nodded to Martha knowing when she was medical director and when she was his nightingale. He went out of the room to locate the Major.

"How is he handling himself?" Colonel Mace asked Martha.

"As he always will when there is a need for calm and clarity," Martha advised. "He is well versed in dealing with these kind of situations and he has worked within military environments. He is not over stepping the mark and he is giving Major Starkey the information and guidance that she needs in order to lead. I believe he is doing a good job, Sir. Even James Lloyd has commented on it. He will continue to give Major Starkey the help she needs, but she is still in command, and, I suspect that she is the one who has not prioritised the analysis of the cage material," Martha commented.

"Major?" Colonel Mace addressed her when she came into the room a moment later. She saluted him. "As you were," Mace didn't return the gesture. He had not saluted anyone from his bed, it was not an appropriate thing to do. He didn't very much feel like he was on duty and he although he doubted he would admit it to Martha he did actually feel like he wanted to go to sleep. He really wanted to go to sleep. He just needed to know that everything was being done appropriately as they worked and he rested.

"How are you feeling, Sir?" Major Starkey asked him.

"Rather like I am recovering from major surgery," Colonel Mace advised. "Can you please explain to me why the section of cage has not been analysed yet?"

"I believed it pertinent to wait for the Doctor to be well enough to look at it, Sir."

"And our own science team? What are they doing at the current time?"

"They have been evacuated from the labs. They remain beyond our current hold and have not yet been put back into use. There are some concerns about the safety of one of the steel shutters in the rear corridor, Sir, and whether it is safe. Once the area has been released from the hold I will need to get a maintenance crew to see to the shutters before that area is fully operational."

"Have all the scientists been accounted for?"

"Yes."

"Then while I appreciate that the lab may not be readily available the personnel are. They need to be utilised as a matter of course. Provide them with the piece of metal. If they need work space then you make it available within engineering."

"In engineering, Sir?"

"Yes, if that means you clear a bench or two then you clear a bench or two, and, you make sure there is full cooperation between the groups. When lives are at risk I do not expect any petty feuds between disciplines," Colonel Mace advised.

"No, Sir," Major Starkey confirmed.

"The Doctor has a significant injury and he is both a guest and a patient. While I am sure he will provide valuable assistance when he is able he is not a resource on which you are to rely for the progress of matters."

"Sir."

"The man had got bone sticking out of his leg, you are not to bother him unless he asks and unless Doctor Jones approves," the Colonel advised Major Starkey. "If he needs anything then you make sure it is available for him. If he otherwise needs to rest then you do not push him and you do not allow him to do too much. In that I expect you to be guided both by Doctor Jones as his medic but also as Captain Harkness as his friend."

"Yes Sir."

"I know that Captain Harkness may not be fully aware of the facilities we have on site and may want to rely on the Doctor, but I expect you to utilise UNIT facilities and personnel in the first instance," Colonel Mace insisted. "If Captain Harkness is not in that frame of mind then you are the lead, not him."

"Yes Sir, but Sir? You should know that Captain Harkness did suggest relocating the evacuated scientists to carry out the work. It was me that suggested we were unable to because they would not want to work outside their own labs."

"Major, whether they want to work outside their own labs is not the question. Their labs are out of action and there is work to be done. If they have any concern at all then direct them to the photograph of the lab that the Doctor utilised whilst he was here at UNIT full time. I believe that the facilities made available to them in engineering will still far outweigh the facilities the Doctor made fine use of during his term."

"Yes Sir, they do, Sir. Sorry Sir."

"No need to apologise, Major, I appreciate that the civilian workers sometimes seem harder to direct. Should you encounter any resistance from the science team then I would recommend you invite them to utilise their ability to improvise and think of their feet and it may not do any harm to remind them that once recovered that the Doctor may want to review their work."

"Sir."

"Good Show, Major," Colonel Mace nodded his head. She stood to attention and saluted.

"Right, I think that is it now," Martha suggested. "All you have said about not treating the Doctor like personnel while injured also applies to the Colonel. You come through me before you access him," Martha instructed looking at Major Starkey.

"Yes Ma'am," she confirmed and saluted her.

"We've plenty to be getting on with now, Ma'am," Jack commented. He went to get the bar from the cage. It was still stuck to the bedframe of the Doctor's bed. He took it out to give it to the scientists.

"Captain?" Colonel Mace got his attention.

"Yes Sir?"

"Get Private Coates to review all the reports from Peru, the autopsy reports, and any statements that might give us any further information on that Harlequin. He's a good mind for that kind of thing. I think it will suit him too."

"Colonel, the reports from Peru are level one security classified," Major Starkey reminded him. "Private Coates is barely level three cleared."

"Then I suggest you make it known that he has authorised temporary level one field security as required to carry out the task of temporary intelligence officer," Colonel Mace instructed. He sounded a little tired, but that was likely tinged with some slight exasperation. He looked to Captain Harkness. Jack nodded his understanding.

Martha shooed her and Captain Jack out and then turned to Colonel Mace again. He'd sighed and was trying to settle back again. "They are doing a good job between them," Martha assured the Colonel. "Now you need to think about getting some rest."

"Yeah." Mace did not argue with that. In fact it felt like his body had been arguing against remaining awake for some time now. It was going to be a welcome relief to be able to shut his eyes and slip off and away.

"Go to sleep, Sweetie," Captain Price kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I will be here when you wake up," she assured him. "I'll ask someone to go and fetch that book you're reading down so you have something to do when you wake up." Captain Price assured him, but Martha could see he was mostly asleep already. It was a small medical concern that he was so tired. His blood oxygen levels were a little low and she would do his blood count to make sure he was not growing anaemic. The blood substitute was only good for so long. His vitals remained in the stable zone, but she would be checking on him regularly until the Doctor was due to go into surgery and then she would make sure someone Anita took over.


	35. Chapter 35

Martha went out of the East Wing and into the adjacent room where James had managed to get up on the bench and was waiting. He didn't look particularly comfortable and he'd folded his right leg beneath his braced left to try and give it some more support as he'd not thought to grab one of the cushions off the side and now he was on the bench he didn't want to get back off it again.

"I have just heard a particularly remarkable story about a medic tackling the Harlequin Ghost and getting thrown right across the room?" Martha suggested by way of greeting James as she went back into the room. James just sighed in response. "Is that true?"

"I couldn't just leave it, could I?"

"Did it injure you?"

"A couple of bruises, that is all. I had worse tackles at university," he commented.

"Considering the mess you made of your knee at university, I'm not entirely sure that is a fair observation to be making," Martha argued slightly. "Bruises? How about you let me see?" Martha insisted. Her tone was one of serious authority and James knew that he was not going to have a choice in the matter. For all he knew Captain Jack had already told her that he had bruised his ribs anyway. It wasn't serious and even if they were cracked they wouldn't do anything about them. They weren't dangerously broken, his breathing was fine. He could take a full breath inward and he could also let it all out. It didn't cause considerable pain to do so. He pulled his T-shirt up to reveal the large mottled red and purple bruising coming out of the side of his ribcage.

"James?" Martha couldn't believe he'd got a bruise like that and was acting like nothing had happened. She pulled some gloves on from the tray at the side and gently felt around the area. It was tender, especially across the tenth and eleventh ribs. "Can you take a deep breath and hold it in?" Martha checked with him.

"Yeah, I'm alright Martha. If anything there may be a couple of hairline cracks, but it's not affecting my breathing at all or my general mobility. It hurts a bit if I take a sudden deep breath, but it's just going to be a case of taking anti-inflammatories and resting up for a couple of days. There is no treatment required. If one of the lads came in like this you'd just tell them off for fooling around then get them to take ibuprofen and put them on light duties for a few days if they whined enough," James suggested. Martha nodded. She couldn't disagree with him. That was exactly what she would do about it.

"You're right with that one. If one of the lads came in with a knee like yours what would I do then?" Martha asked him. "Not that anyone with a knee like yours would be able to join up and be one of the lads would they?"

"No, probably not," James agreed.

"I need to have a proper look at you."

"Perhaps you should wait until after we have operated on the Doctor?"

"Barb and Lauren remain in surgery with Jamie. Even if they come out in the next five minutes they are going to need half an hour to freshen up, have something to drink, clean up, and get ready to come back in. Looking at the injuries that Jamie has sustained I am not prepared to swap the team around, so, as much as I don't like leaving the Doctor waiting, he does have to wait for a while. That gives us some time for me to have a look at your knee. You know your knee better than anyone, so, what do you think you have done?" Martha checked with him.

"I didn't think I had actually done anything to begin with, but, I think I must have lost the alignment," James advised.

"Do you think it remains out of alignment?"

"Potentially," James confirmed with a nod of his head.

"Then I will get a scan before we do anything else," Martha insisted. James knee had been fully replaced so instead of having an interface between the femur and the tibia in his knee he had an interface between two bits of plastic coated titanium with a plastic patella in place. It meant that if his knee did lose alignment then he was not hit with the immense and sudden pain that another patient would have, unless of course it was right out of place and then he would. If the metal had slipped or rotated slightly then it would the strain on the soft tissues and the swelling and bruising building up that would cause him a the increasing pain as it worsened as long as his artificial knee remained out of alignment.

Martha went to the door of the room. "Ah, Jack?" That was handy, the Captain was in the corridor. "Are you busy?" she called him over.

"Just waiting for Major Starkey to come back. She's gone to set up the science team in engineering. Apparently I have no idea what kind of issue that is going to cause. I offered to go with but she wasn't having any of it." Jack pulled a bit of a face to suggest that he might have been in the doghouse. That was good as far as Martha was concerned. It meant she could get him to do something for her.

"While you wait could you go into the East Wing and get one of the portable scanners that have been taken out and get it back out here? Ask Eddie to show you one you can have."

"Eddie is the nurse with the blue hair, right?"

"Yeah," Martha confirmed.

"Is his knee bad?"

"More than likely," Martha suggested. Jack found Eddie and she pointed out a scanner that he could take. He went to wheel it out but Eddie went with them to make sure Martha didn't need any help. Martha very carefully hooked the brace off James's leg and got him to lift his leg up out of it. There was a significant amount of swelling and the red marks and dents in his leg said he'd had the brace on too tight for comfort in order to keep his knee secure for this amount of time. Martha supported his leg and Eddie took the scans and they put the images up on the screen. Unlike a normal X-ray image where the bone was grey the definition of James's knee was totally white with the X-ray opaque titanium forming his knee.

"It's slipped," James complained as he looked at his own X-ray. There was a gap between the two metal surfaces towards the left side of his knee and it appeared to overlap at the right. That meant it had slipped to the right slightly.

"Have you taken anything?" Martha asked him.

"I took a couple of 400mg Ibuprofen."

"Okay, that isn't going to do much to help in the immediate is it?"

"I need to be clear headed."

"Yes, and the pain that you must be experiencing due to that has to be counter intuitive to you having a clear head," Martha suggested. "I will give you a shot of lignocaine into the joint tissues and then get you back in line," She went and got the drugs without waiting for James to argue.

"Is that going to be enough?" Jack was surprised.

"It will be fine. I've got metal rather than bone so it's just the soft tissues that will need to be numbed off and lignocaine will do it," James commented. Eddie still went and held his hand, much to his dismay. He tried to take his hand away feeling a bit silly but Eddie nipped him in admonishment making Jack laugh. Martha injected the anaesthetic into his knee. He gritted his teeth but he did not cry out with it. They waited for a couple of minutes and then Martha felt around his knee. It had gone numb.

"Jack, can you hold his leg up for me?" Martha got him to hold his thigh up so she could bend his knee for him. "Just relax, James."

"You need to go past 90 degrees and then rotate laterally to slide it back," James advised as he watched what Martha was doing. She nodded. It was what she was planning on doing, but she didn't say anything. It was important that James remained involved when it was his leg. She bent his knee up to 110 degrees so his heel was past half way to his backside. She felt some resistance so didn't go any further. She felt around his knee and located the bulge at the side where the metal faces of the replaced joint had slipped apart. She pushed his ankle outward while holding his upper leg still so it put a lateral strain on his knee. James didn't flinch as there was a visible shift in his knee.

"That should be it," Martha commented. She got another scan taken and then checked the image with James. It looked to be back in a good alignment, but when she checked the stability of his knee it was clear there was some soft tissue injury to deal with as well. They would have to get a soft tissue scan in a few days once the swelling had gone down properly.

"Let's get the brace back on," Martha advised. She set it with his knee slightly more bent than James had. James had put it on so that he could walk on it if the pain allowed. Martha put it on so that when he was stood up his toes would barely graze the ground so he would be unable to stand on his leg and it took the pressure off the joint. "No weight bearing on it until we have a look at what is going on," Martha advised.

"No risk of that at the moment," James commented.

"I'll write you up for some more substantial pain relief," Martha assured him. There was a rule that the medics did not write themselves up for medications. There were some strict audit processes in place to ensure that the pharmacy remained stocked and that all drug usages were accounted for and that medics were not prescribing things for themselves. "It will be sore when the lignocaine wears off, but that is it for now. We'll have to see what the level of stability and soft tissue injury is once you've started to recover and the initial inflammation has gone down. If you've lost the ACL then I am not sure where we will reattach it this time." Martha warned.

"It will be fine," James insisted.

"Are you still going to be able to go in with the Doctor?" Jack asked James. He didn't want to sound callous, but he needed the orthopaedic specialist in there to help Martha stabilise the Doctor's leg for him. The medic nodded his answer to Jack's question. "Even when your knee has been out of alignment?"

"It's back in alignment now. It's been in and out so many times that now it is back in it won't be too bad," James advised. "I can sit on a stool in there and advise."

"Okay good, but be warned, when the lignocaine wears off you will need additional pain relief," Martha added. He was going to be in a fair amount of pain with it even if he tended to suggest that it wasn't as bad as it could be because of the seriousness of it. It was true that when metal slipped over metal it was less painful than when bone slipped over bone, but it didn't mean it was insignificant or easily managed. Ideally they would take him off duty, give him some hefty pain relief, and then get him back in a few days to see what kind of damage there was. If the ligaments were just stretched it would be good, but Martha suspected that the elasticity of the ligaments in his knee was pretty poor. If they had to operate to repair the ligaments again then there was going to be a longer recovery and more risk, even if they could do it with an arthroscopy procedure and keyhole rather than opening his knee right back up again. It was still going to be sore and it would still restrict what James was able to do. Martha knew that was hard for him, especially when he had specific orthopaedic patients. He couldn't afford to be hurt himself.

They all went back into the East Wing. James was on his crutches with his knee brace on but was moving more fluidly with the lignocaine. It was not going to be as uncomfortable when it wore off either but he knew better than to put any weight on it. If the ligaments had gone then one false step could result in a massive dislocation and then he would be out of action. Martha needed someone to monitor Mace and the Doctor so rather than utilise one of the nurses who would be able to run around and do other things James was going to do that. When they walked into the wing they did just as an alarm was sounded. It was a high pitched alert.

"Who is it?!" Martha called out as nurses and Doctor Carter went running into a side room.

"Lawrence! He was just brought in out of surgery and he's coding," Eddie advised. The Sergeant was on a bed. He had a nurse performing CPR on him and another using an ambu-bag attached to the tube down his throat. His arm was totally wrapped in bandages and he had some facial bruising.

"He's in cardiac arrest," Doctor Carter stated.

"Get him adrenaline," Martha instructed. "Where is the defibrillator?" She turned on the spot in the area that had been turned into a makeshift recovery room. There were various bits of equipment in there but not defibrillator. "Get one in here now!" She barked instructions. Eddie ran out to find one. They'd not expected Lawrence to be the one coding so the portable machine had been put in the area where Cole and Blue were. Eddie hurried back in pushing the defibrillator into the room and worked with Martha to get the pads on his chest so they could try to shock his heart back into action before they lost the natural electrical signal the machine boosted.

"Clear," Martha instructed. She delivered the shock and they stood and watched the line on the monitor for a moment. "Nothing." She sighed. "Recommence CPR," she instructed. She grabbed her penlight and looked into his eyes. "Damn it." His pupils were massive filling the whole of his iris turning his light hazel eyes black. They were fixed and did not respond to the light when she shone it. "Recharge to 360," Martha instructed and Eddie adjusted the dial on the defibrillator. The machine whined as the charge built rapidly. "Clear, all clear," Martha pressed the paddles to his chest and gave him another shock. It had no effect. The nurses started the CPR again. "Reset charge to 380."

They tried three more times to get his heart to come back to life. Various drugs and hormones were pumped into him in an attempt to get him started again, but nothing was working. He was not going to come back to them. Martha was the senior medic in the room and they were all looking to her. Every medic in the room knew they had lost him, but until Martha gave the instruction they were not going to stop trying to save him. They looked to her for guidance. Martha nodded and then looked at her watch. "Let's call it. Time of death is 15.24."

"Shit!" Doctor Carter threw his gloves off into the metal bin in the corner of the area and then kicked it for good measure. He had been in surgery with him. They had thought it had gone well and he had just suddenly declined.

"Ian?" Martha went to him. "Go and take five."

"How many more, Martha?" he asked her sounding a little like he was despairing. Martha couldn't answer that question but there were enough seriously injured soldiers in her care that she wasn't able to say there would be no more before the end of the day. Every one of them would hurt the same and they just had to swallow their own feelings and get on because if they didn't the number would rise.

"I don't know what happened. He came through the surgery well. We saved his arm for him."

"He's pupils are blown," Martha advised. "Either he's had a brain injury we were unaware of, or, he's suffered as the result of the surgery. I guess we'll have to do a post mortem on him to find out for sure."

Eddie came out of the room wheeling the defibrillator again to move it back round to the other side in case it was needed on Cole or Blue. "Have we been able to get in touch with his next of kin?" Martha asked Eddie as she passed. She and Anita would be up to speed with what had and had not been achieved to date.

"His wife is on her way, but she's in Manchester so she won't be here until this afternoon."

"How is she getting here?"

"I'm not sure," Eddie admitted. "She was just told he was having surgery for an arm injury."

"Okay," Martha acknowledged that the bad news was unlikely to be expected. She got on the phone and went through to control. She wished that Captain Price was up there and answering the phone, but she was in with Colonel Mace and it could not be any other way.

"Control, Lieutenant Main."

"Caroline, it's Martha," Martha told her.

"How is it going?"

"Not so good, listen, I need you to get onto Leeds."

"UNIT in Leeds?"

"Yes, UNIT in Leeds. Lawrence Ashburn's wife is making her way down from Manchester. Give them her number and get them to transport her down here she should not have to make her own way," Martha instructed.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Thank you." Martha nodded. If they were going to be telling her that her husband had died then it was not fair for them to do so after she had made the journey from Manchester to London. She knew that going to fetch her give her the hint that something more was going on than an arm injury, but it was better than to make her travel down on her own and then tell her that he was dead. Martha got off the phone and saw that Eddie was waiting for her to see what her instructions were going to be. "Let's get him cleaned up and into a clean tracksuit," Martha insisted. At least his face had not been seriously damaged. He had just died.

"Damn," Martha snapped as she thought about it more. Another patient was dead. She didn't think he was going to be the last either. "Get him into one of the rooms past theatre three. We can let his wife view him in there fi she wants to before we put him in the morgue. Who was the lead surgeon on him?"

"Graham Button. They did some initial work to stabilise the bone and reattach the blood vessels in his arm. It was not a major surgery but they were trying to avoid amputation," Eddie advised.

"We'll have to do a post mortem to understand what happened. It was likely a blood clot that travelled from his arm up to his brain." Martha sighed. They'd lost him it looked like he'd had a massive stroke. Martha looked up at the ceiling as she took a deep breath. There were too many people still living. They did not have time to stop and grieve.

"I'll clean him up and sort out the records," Eddie offered to Martha as Anita came round. Eddie went off to do what she had to do.

"Thank you, Ed," Martha accepted and then turned to Anita. "Let's get another full update, and, I want to go in and see Blue and Cole. Is he out of surgery?"

"Yes, he's not been out long. He's round the back recovering," Anita advised.

"What rooms have we got back?" Martha asked.

"I'm not sure if anything has been released back to us yet."

"Go and find out, we need to get some sense and order back in here. It wouldn't have made a difference but we didn't have the defib readily available for Lawrence," Martha advised. "I want my HDU back. Tell Major Starkey I need them back and in full working condition in the next 10 minutes and I want my wards back in 15," Martha complained.

Martha went round to the other side of the makeshift cubicles. Cole was in a bed connected to monitors that were plugged into a multi-socket extension cable that was running across the area from a point where there used to be the main TV. Not only was the cable a trip hazard but it was running his ventilator as well. If someone got caught on the wire and it came out then the machine would lose power and pressure and it could take up to two minutes to restore and to get him breathing again.

"This is not good enough," Martha complained. "We need those rooms back. Stan," Martha waved the paramedic over. "Can you find some tape and get those wires taped down." She instructed. He looked at what she was talking about and that they were power life supporting equipment and nodded and went to set to it straight away. It was no time to be suggesting that maintenance was not his job. Martha went into Cole. He was deeply unconscious. The machine was ventilating him and carrying out his breathing for him and he had various monitors stuck all over him. His abdomen had not been stitched closed. Instead a wide foam dressing had been actually stitched into his open abdomen and then a vacuum seal had been put in place to suck out as much gunk and infection as possible as it arose. It meant they would be able to get into him easily in order to clean him out regularly as would be required. Martha picked up his electronic record from the foot of his bed. A stoma had been created above the wound and it was bypassing all of his large and some of his small intestines. He would not be able to absorb much at all from any food that he took so a feeding tube had also been put in place that would provide a special liquid feed directly to his stomach.

If he survived they might be able to reconnect some of his intestines again, but it would be a miracle. He was receiving very strong antibiotics and pure oxygen in an attempt to try to beat the system wide infection that was now more likely to kill him than the injury itself. Drains had been put into his abdomen to assist in drawing off the infection but his heart rate was too high, his body temperature was 41 degrees. He was in a coma and would be medically maintained in that to reduce the pressures on his system. He was lying on a cooling blanket and he had ice packs pushed into his armpits and around his chest in and attempt to cool him down, but they had to watch his extremities didn't get too cold as his circulation was being affected by the blood wide infection. He had a catheter in but Martha could see if was empty, he was not producing urine which was a bad sign. If his kidneys had started to pack up it would not be long until the rest of him did. She noted from the records that they had not noted any specific damage to his bladder or the renal system during the surgery, but it was the system wasn't working well. She checked what drugs he was receiving, but she couldn't see that she would do anything differently. There was nothing more they could do for him but wait, support him medically, and keep their fingers crossed. He was a fit man in his early thirties so hopefully his general health would see him through it, but Martha was worried for him.

"Doctor Jones?" Anita came in and found her. "None of the rooms are back yet. Major Starkey said it will be longer than fifteen minutes."

"Was Captain Jack with her?"

"Not at the time," Anita advised. "She said something about getting maintenance to go and fix the shutter so they could get to the labs."

"Okay, thanks." Martha nodded. Anita could see that she was seething and getting close to the point where she just blew a fuse. She pitied Major Starkey as Martha left the East Wing to go and find her. She knew that Martha would remain professional. She'd not shout at anyone like she had shouted at Steve, but, when everyone knew when Martha was annoyed and Major Starkey was going to be in the firing line.

"Where is Major Starkey?" Martha asked as she crossed the corridor outside the East Wing to the centre of operations.

"Um, I'm not sure love, she was here not so long ago. She didn't say where she was going. Is everything okay?"

"Not really Wilfred."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Not unless you have someone you feel like you can pray to?"

"Ah, I'm not really one for prayer, love, but I've faith in you," Wilfred commented. "You and all those good men and women in there."

"I'm not sure that is going to be enough," Martha advised solemnly. "Excuse me. I need to find Major Starkey." Martha wandered up toward the hold but she didn't see the Major. There were cleaners working in the corridor which she supposed was a start, though one of them was mopping the floor with a mop that had been stained red with the amount of blood. The cleaner seemed to be smearing it around the floor and diluting it rather than actually cleaning it up.

"I think you need to swap that head," Martha advised her.

"Yes Ma'am, we've run out. They've gone to go and find some more."

"You've run out of mop heads?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Okay, have you seen Major Starkey?"

"No Ma'am, I'm sorry."

"Okay, thank you," Martha pulled her radio out. "Greyhound 6 to control over."

"Greyhound 6 receiving."

"Current location of Greyhound 1."

"Stand by," the control officer stated. "Control to Greyhound one, over?" There was a pause. "Control to Greyhound one, over?" There was another pause. "Control to Greyhound One, Major Starkey, are you receiving over?" There was another pause. "Control to all Greyhound outstations. If any outstation knows the whereabouts of Greyhound One Major Starkey please as her to contact control immediately." The control officer announced and Martha sighed. She had not answered her radio, but? She got her phone and dialled Jack's number.

"Voice of a Nightingale?" Jack announced.

"Is Starkey with you?"

"She's just having a break."

"A break?!"

"A bathroom break, she's using the head," Jack advised.

"She's not answering the radio."

"She's having a pee."

"When she's finished I need her here," Martha advised Jack.

"Where?"

"Here! For God's sake Jack! Just get her here!"

"Martha, I will, when you tell me where you are? Are you in the East Wing?"

"No, I'm up in the corridor toward the hold."

"Okay, good, I will see you there in a minute," Jack advised.

"Good."

"Who's died?" Jack asked.

"What?!"

"Who has just died?"

"Lawrence Ashburn," Martha commented.

"I'm sorry," Jack offered kindly. "I will see you in a minute." He clicked the call off. He was going to have to find someone with a charger so he could rescue it before it died. He waited for Major Starkey to come out of the bathroom before getting her to advise control that she was secure and then to hurry along toward the hold to where Martha was. He could see that Martha was getting stressed because she was pacing back and forth a little as she waited. For such a petite woman she had an air about her and even Jack knew when to step back and let her fume. If she didn't think that everything was going right for her patients then she would be fuming.

"Doctor Jones?" Major Starkey went to her. "You're looking for me?"

"I need my rooms back."

"We're working on it, Ma'am," Major Starkey advised. "I spoke with your nurse a few minutes ago and explained the situation."

"She told me that you were working on the shutters?" Martha asked.

"So that we can get the labs up and running safely."

"You have got cleaners pushing bloody mops around, and I mean bloody quite literally, because they have run out of mop heads! And you've got a team working on the shutters?! I thought there was space for the lab work to be done in engineering?" Martha commented. "I need my hospital back. People are dying!"

"Which areas do you need back as a priority?" Jack asked her sensibly and calmly.

"Critical Care, ward one, and ward two."

"Where are they?" Jack checked with her. He didn't know the hospital lay out of by heart yet. He'd looked at all the schematics and he knew the ventilation system pretty well, but he wasn't sure of the exact lay out.

"Along here," Martha led Jack and Major Starkey to the area of the corridor just past the surgical theatres. There were two rooms with eight beds in each. There were a couple of beds missing from each of the rooms and some of the monitors and equipment had gone as well. "These are the wards I need," Martha advised.

"The beds and the equipment taken from here has been moved into the East Wing?" Jack checked.

"Yes."

"The patients in those beds and using that equipment? Can they be put into the wards or will they need to go elsewhere? Can they be relocated straight back in as is?"

"Not all of them, most of them should be able to be," Martha confirmed.

"Okay, and critical care?"

"That is our high dependency intensive care unit. It is down here."

"It is beyond the current hold," Major Starkey commented as the hold was at surgical theatre three and the HDU was just beyond it.

"I have got patients who are on full life support who have their ventilation machines plugged into extension cables trailing across a corridor," Martha advised Major Starkey trying to keep a calm voice though they could all hear the warbled strain. "I do not care if it is beyond the hold. I need it back. If that means you put twenty soldiers with liquid nitrogen guns on the door to the room then that is what you are going to do because I am not having patients die because someone tripped over a wire!"

"I would be more concerned about you blowing all the circuits in there," Major Starkey commented. "Do you know how many AMPs one of those machines runs on?" she checked. "You're going to short out the whole East Wing. The circuits in the wards are equipped for the machines to run and they have a separate back-up generator linked in to maintain power in the event of a mains disruption. You've got live support linked into TV points. You shouldn't be doing that at all. There is a high risk of the entire circuit shorting out and potential electrical fires. You can't plug high demand machines into an extension wire."

"Then I suggest you get my high dependency unit back up and running because I am not unplugging anyone until you do."

"You need to."

"If I do they will die!" Martha wasn't sure that she was being clear enough. "They are called life support machines for a reason. We're not baking cakes in there you know! We're keeping people alive, or trying to at least! So, it is not going to happen. No one is getting unplugged and you're going to go and sort out the HDU."

"Okay, how will you transfer the patients?" Jack asked her. "If they are all ventilated?"

"We will have to disconnect them, take over manually during transport, and then reconnect them when they are in the HDU."

"Is the equipment they are attached to out of the HDU?"

"Most of it."

"So we need to relocate the patient and the machines as a priority?" Jack checked so that Major Starkey didn't go on about her building maintenance and Martha didn't get any more irate about the state of her hospital. They were both right, they couldn't just turn the power off to the machines and possibly kill the patient attached to it because it was going to overload the less capable building electrics, but, if they did overload the building electrics then the machines were going to go off because they'd lose power and then more would be affected than just the machines plugged into extension cables.

"Alright, then let's do it," Jack commented. "The room is not an issue. The corridor still needs a good clean. We can spray the wheels of the beds and equipment with disinfectant as they go through into the HDU can't we?"

"It's not ideal, but yes," Martha confirmed.

"Okay, so who do we need to move first? We can get the HDU up and running for you one patient at a time. Who do you want us to move first?"

"Cole I think," Martha advised. "He's plugged into an extension cable."

"Then lets go and do it," Jack advised. He took Martha's hand and squeezed it. As they walked back down the corridor Martha rested her head against Jack's shoulder for a brief moment.

"I'm glad you're here," Martha commented quietly.

"Me too, Nightingale, me too."

It took a team of Martha, three other medics, Captain Jack, Major Starkey, Ethan Coates, and two of the standby unit soldiers to move the patients down into the critical care along with all the equipment. They moved Cole first and it went without a hitch. They then moved Richard and that went fine. When it came to move Blue Rigsby Jack asked Ethan if he wanted to do it or to wait for the next one. Ethan confirmed that it was best for Blue to move with Martha and she confirmed it was so they then moved him. They made sure there was an area ready to received Jamie when she came out of surgery and then it would just be anyone who had a hard time in normal surgery. Martha reassigned Eddie and Doctor Carter to the HDU.

"Okay, right, now you want to do the same with ward 1?" Jack asked her. Who do you want in there?"

"Ward one is usually pre-op, as those waiting for surgery," Martha advised.

"And ward 2?"

"Those needing monitoring post surgery or who will not need surgery but cannot be discharge will be in wards 2 and 3 and then between surgery three and the HDU is the recovery suite, but we can do without that for now if we have to."

"We will get those back in use for you too," Jack advised and looked to Major Starkey to make sure she didn't have anything else to say on the matter. She didn't. "Can Anita tell us who goes where?" Jack asked Martha.

"Yes," Martha confirmed. "Any of the medical staff can."

"Good, so then why don't you go and have a coffee and five minutes?" Jack suggested.

"I am not sure that is appropriate. There is still so much to be done. We're lagging behind with the administration of it as well now. I can't push Anita any more she is at her limit. Our team is over stretched and everyone is upset. We've lost people today as well. We're running with two doctors and a nurse down," Martha commented. "A lot of the damage done by the Harlequin was to chests and abdomens and that was Luke Wilson's speciality so we've lost one of the experts we needed the most," Martha commented. "James should also be considered down but he won't do that until things have calmed. I can't just go and get a coffee," Martha advised. She didn't add that it was also because she felt horrendously guilty about triggering Steve into a complete meltdown earlier. No one had come back to say how he was doing down in the brig either. She should probably go down and see how he was doing. Jack wasn't getting the message though as he continued.

"When did you last eat?"

"This morning. I had breakfast with you lot."

"That was at half seven this morning. It is now half four," Jack complained. "Do you want me to go and grab you a couple of hotdogs from the standby position? They're pretty good, nice mustard they've got with them?"

"No thanks, I'm fine. I just need to get on with things. There are some sandwich packs on order. As long as they're not all tuna and sweetcorn this time it will be fine," Martha advised.

Jack was just about to argue about whether Martha should take a break or not when Anita hurried out of the East Wing into the corridor from where she was.

"Doctor Jones? I think you're needed," Anita commented. Martha let go of Jack's hand and jogged back along the corridor. Jack sighed and watched her go. He had his work to do in getting the wards ready for her. That was probably the best thing they could do. He remained to get on with that. He'd only get in the way if he followed, but he'd make sure she ate before long.


	36. Chapter 36

"Who is it?" Martha asked as she hurried back into the East Wing with Anita.

"The Doctor," Anita announced. Martha's already increased heart rate seemed to double.

"The Doctor?" Martha worried. She looked behind her to see that Jack was giving Private Coates instructions and they were going to be getting her hospital back in order for her. He wasn't hurrying in after her. She didn't call him. He had his task to do and he'd not heard Anita announce that it was the Doctor she was being called to. If he knew the Time Lord was causing enough concern for the medical director to be called to him in the middle of a crisis then he would be in there on her shoulder like her own personal conscience. As if she needed any further pressure not to mess up when he was concerned. "I am sure it is just his leg."

"Captain Price called me in Ma'am. I popped my head in. I don't know enough about him, but I think there is definitely something wrong."

"I hope it's just his leg," Martha offered quietly. She really did hope it was just his leg, but didn't Jack say that the ventilation cover had dropped onto him? They were quite heavy and if the Harlequin had forced it down? It might have come out at quite a speed. He'd also been thrown off the bed when it tipped over. She supposed it was possible he could have picked up some other injury, but the Doctor tended to be quite robust even if he had smashed his leg. She worried that it might be something respiratory when he had been given ketamine on top of the dijalipam, but that had been almost two hours ago now so that was unlikely to be the problem. He'd also had two drips ripped out of the veins in his arms now and that could have triggered acute phlebitis or other vascular issues, considering that was what she suspected had added Lawrence Ashburn to the list of the dead it was not something to be taken lightly.

Martha hurried into the Doctor's room. Captain Price was at his bedside rather than the Colonel's. She looked to be pretty worried as the Doctor was arching on the bed and was gasping and gagging rather than breathing effectively. "What happened?"

"He just started moaning and then went like this," Captain Price advised.

"Doctor?" Martha got in beside the bed on the far side by the wall and put her hands on his shoulders. His eyes were closed but not in unconsciousness, they were squeezed tightly shut as if he was trying desperately to block everything out. She could feel him moving on the bed. His left leg was bent up under the sheet. He certainly wasn't unconscious and sleeping peacefully any more. "Doctor? It's Martha, can you hear me?" Martha held his shoulders quite firmly to try and keep him still. His hearts were racing according to the monitor, both of them were beating at around 142 beats per minute giving him an overall heart rate that was far too fast. His blood oxygen level had reduced slightly. Martha didn't know if his bypass had kicked in and been depleted or if that was yet to happen but he was no breathing well enough with the remnants of the drugs.

"Doctor, it's Martha, you're okay but you need to keep still," she told him hoping that if he could hear her that he'd respond. She got a vague sense of panic from him as she touched him and she wondered if it was tangible from him or if it was her own bleeding back in.

"What do you want me to do?" Anita asked Martha unsure of how they were going to assist their alien patient.

"Go and get James for me, he was supposed to be in here, I'm not sure where he has gone. Fine out roughly how long it is going to be until we can get Lauren and Barb ready to go again," Martha instructed. "And, if either Wilfred or Sarah Jane are free then ask one of them to come in. If they are both busy with other patients then get Jack to come in. Private Coates can manage the rest of the ward transfers now," Martha instructed.

"Yes Ma'am," Anita went to carry out her instructions.

"Now, come on, Doctor. You need to calm yourself down," Martha instructed. She adjusted the oxygen flow and went back to the mask through she remained aware that it could make him tense more. One day she would have to ask him why he had such an aversion to the mask. She had little doubt there would be some kind of trauma associated with it, and since he seemed to brush off the majority of traumas she had seen him endure for it to have such a lasting effect she guessed it was significant.

"Doctor, are you listening to me?" Martha put her hand in the middle of his chest and her other to his cheek. He'd got a vague stubble under his palm. He was going to need to shave before long. She'd not seen him with stubble since they had been stuck in 1969. Until then she'd not realised that he even shaved, but then she'd considered that it was not surprising. For all she really knew about his species Time Ladies might have grown full beards as well. "Doctor, listen to me," Martha insisted. "You're safe. You've got a broken leg but we're looking after you. It's Martha. You're safe but you need to keep still and calm down," Martha advised him.

"Glows…" the Doctor gasped.

"Shhh, you're okay, just relax and keep still. Try and take deep breaths."

"Jack…"

"Shhh," Martha tried to soothe him.

"Jack…"

"You're okay, Doctor, you're okay. Just relax and keep still or you're going to hurt your leg even more. Just relax and breathe. Concentrate only on breathing."

"Arrrgh…" the Doctor cried out and arched on the bed in pain and it seemed to trigger the loss of his breathing again.

"What happened?!" Jack ran into the room.

"He's having some kind of panicked response to the pain he is in," Martha concluded. She was quite glad that it was Jack that came in, not only because it meant Sarah Jane and Wilfred were being utilised, but also because the Doctor had asked for him. "He asked for you. Try to get him to calm down."

"Doctor? Hey, Doc?" Jack took his hand. "You need to calm down, Sweetheart?" He caressed his head and held his hand. The Doctor seemed to be struggling to breathe. Jack could read the monitors as well as Martha could and he could see that he was in a bad way with it all. "Martha?"

"He's got 100% oxygen running though now. His breathing has picked back up a bit, but he needs to calm down. That is the end of it. I can't give him anything else at the moment. It is going to make his breathing worse if I do."

"Jack…" the Doctor gasped.

"I'm here, Doc," Jack held his hand.

"Jack…"

"I'm here," Jack held him and tried to get him to calm down. "It's okay. You're safe, just relax, Doc. It's okay. Martha is looking after you. It's okay. You just need to relax."

"Aaarrgh?" The Doctor grabbed at the front of the T-shirt that Jack had taken to wearing. It was his third no and he wondered why the medics didn't wear something other than white. Every slight smear of blood and dirt made them look like they had been involved in some kind of butchery themselves.

"Easy, Doc?" Jack held his wrist and leant over the bed so the Doctor wasn't stretching up to grab hold of him. As if realising that he was actually there the Doctor's eyes snapped open and he looked at him. Jack felt his heart breaking at the state the Time Lord was in. His eyes were wet with tears and bloodshot with the strain of the pain he was in.

"Glows… Jack… it glows…" the Doctor snatched on his limited breath and Jack realised he was trying to finish the conversation they'd started two hours before.

"I know, Sweetheart. If it's dead it won't show any iridescence, right?" Jack checked with him.

"Test… glows."

"We are going to do that, but we're worried that if is dormant that it may be able to assimilate incident energies the same as it does heat and if it's not dead wake up again. It remains secure in the morgue drawer and we've got one liquid nitrogen weapon. It is in production but until we have more we don't want to risk it," Jack advised.

"Glows… test it."

"We will test it when we've got a few more of the liquid nitrogen weapons ready."

"Sonic… won't give… energy."

"Okay, which setting?"

"112."

"Do you want me to go and do it now?" Jack checked.

"Yes… s'not right."

"Okay, if I go and do it now are you going to lie still and relax like Martha asks?"

"Hurts…"

"It will be better if you lie still, Doctor," Martha advised him. "You don't need to worry about the Harlequin. It is secured."

"Doesn't… make sense…" the Doctor protested, but then he arched on the bed and cried out again.

"What is it that doesn't make sense?" Colonel Mace called over him his bedside. He'd been woken up by the activity in the room and by the Doctor crying out a few times. Captain Price had tried to get him to go back to sleep but he was both concerned about the Time Lord's health and about the Harlequin himself. He could see that the Doctor had clearly not had the surgery that he required while he'd slept. That meant there were others still receiving more urgent treatment, though he found it hard to accept there was more urgency than the agonies the Doctor was enduring. He had hoped when he woke he'd find the Time Lord sitting up in bed and chatting more comfortably after surgery, but he seemed to be in a lot of trouble.

"You should be sleeping," Martha scolded slightly as she looked over to the other bed in the room.

"Alan…" the Doctor gasped apologetically. He'd disturbed him.

"I think you just need to relax and go back to sleep, Doctor, the ghost has been taken care of," the Colonel instructed. "My men have it under control along with Captain Jack and Mr Smith."

"Mister… Smith?" he wondered if that was Sarah Jane's Xylok computer again.

"Mickey Mouse," Jack reminded him.

"Not… right."

"I know he's not really a Mr Smith kind of guy is he?" Jack commented.

"No… ghost… not right," the Doctor insisted, but then he moaned deeply as the pain get the better of him again. It was always getting the better of him. It was too much. He was totally useless to anyone. How could they not see that it did not make sense?

"You need to relax," Martha told him.

"Stop… telling me… to relax!" the Doctor snapped in complaint. If he could relax then he'd have relaxed. He arched on the bed and cried out.

"I can't, Doctor, because that is what you need to do," Martha held him.

"I'll go and test the ghost. Maybe if it comes back it is dead. He'll relax then," Jack commented. "Who has got sonic?"

"Sarah Jane has it to keep it safe," Martha advised. They didn't want to leave it lying around. All it would have taken was for a curious soldier to find it and fiddle with it and they could have shut down all national grid power across the Capital and then plugging life support into extension cables would be the least of their problems. She was actually quite impressed that they'd managed to find an extension cable, normally if they wanted one they'd not have been able to find one anywhere, but she did wonder where they had nicked it from.

"Don't you think about regenerating while I'm gone," Jack warned the stricken Time Lord. He impulsively dropped a kiss onto his forehead not remembering that he'd only done that when he was unconscious before. The face the Doctor pulled despite his pain was enough to make Martha chuckle.

"Martha?" the Doctor whimpered once Jack had gone out again. He had tears in his eyes and he was struggling to draw sufficient breath because of the pain. It made him tense and groan what little breath he did have left after snatching her name out. "Hurts."

"Oh, Doctor, I know it's hurting you and I'm sorry. We're still waiting for a theatre to become available for you. Then we will see what we can do to make it easier."

"Can't… stand it."

"I'm not sure what else I can do," Martha admitted. "You've got a maximum dose of bladamine and a maximum dose of dijalipam running now. When you had the ketamine on top it started to affect your breathing and I'm not particularly happy about that just now either. You're blood oxygen levels are down. If I give you ketamine on top then the risk is I'd have to intubate you and I can't do that unless you're totally out of it. I have sent Anita to find out how long it is likely to be before we can get you into surgery."

"Why is… it so… bad?"

"Ah, don't you know?" Martha asked him. "Do you know what happened when the bed tipped over?"

"Hurts…"

"Either the strain of trying to drag Wilfred and Private Coates over the bed with you or the actual impact you had when you fell compounded the tibia fracture," Martha told him plainly.

"Is it… open?"

"Yeah, it is, I'm sorry." Martha sighed and took his hand. "I know it's not something that we wanted to happen, but it is easily fixed. In fact I think James believes that now it is open that we can get a better reduction than when it was closed. He would not have cut the skin to achieve anything, but now that has happened he is going to make use of the direct access. We're just waiting for a surgery to become available, or, for my top anaesthetist to come out of another surgery anyway. I am not taking you in without the best of everything because you're so awkward," Martha teased him slightly, but there was no room for humour along with the pain he was in.

"How long…"

"I'm not sure yet," Martha admitted. "I'm sorry, but the surgery that is being performed is on a critical patient and I can't pull them out."

"Quite… right," the Doctor gasped and Martha just caressed his head. At worst he'd regenerate with it. If the surgery was on someone the Harlequin had got hold of then it was going to be serious and UNIT personnel couldn't regenerate, well, apart from him anyway.

"But, listen, Doctor? You know that Mickey is here now? He brought the vortex manipulator for Jack. If you can tell him how to repair the teleport then he could go and get you some more suitable pain relief couldn't he? I think your systems are just that bit too different for our drugs to work properly and the bladamine while good for Time Lords there must be something stronger available?"

"Yeah…"

"Could you talk Jack through setting the vortex manipulator back up and give him a shopping list? It would be good if it was all ready for you coming out of theatre," Martha commented. "What do you think?"

"Y'arrrghh!"

"Okay." Martha took his hand as he cried out. His grip was harsh as he arched on the bed. "It would really be easier if you could keep still," Martha encouraged. He whined and then cried out again. "Oh, Doctor, tell me what you need me to do?" Martha asked him as he arched and gagged. She was at a loss. If he was a human patient and in this much pain he'd have blacked out, and if he hadn't then she had a whole array of medications that she could give him to help him relax, to kill the pain, to make him comfortable. They didn't have a hospital full of patients screaming in agony because one of their priorities was to reduce pain to a comfortable level due to the physical strain pain placed on the body. The kind of strain the Doctor was experiencing. His eyes started to roll back as if he was going to lose consciousness again, but he fought against it and he won. "Just go with it, Doctor, just let yourself go. It's okay, we'll look after you, Doctor. Just go with it," Martha tried to get him just to give in and to allow himself to pass out. "You need to just go with it."

"Jack…"

"He won't be long," Martha confirmed.

"It's wrong… doesn't make… sense."

"You keep saying that, Doctor, but what does it mean?" Colonel Mace asked him.

"Don't know… can't think… pain… ow… ow… yeerrrarrgh!"

"Shhh," Martha caressed his head. Martha had hold of his hand and was stroking his head as he cried out. It looked like he was going to pass out again, but he didn't want to. The nausea and the dizziness was not something he could relent to. It was not in him to give into the darkness willingly even if he knew it would bring relief. "Is there anything I can give you to knock you out?" Martha asked. She was worried about the strain he was under putting him under too much physical strain.

The door to the room opened and James came in on his crutches. As Captain Price had been in there he had been concentrating on the other area where there were patients needing monitoring that did not have someone sitting in. He saw the pain that the Doctor was in and how Martha was trying to comfort him as she held his hand and caressed his head.

"James, isn't there anything we can do?" Martha asked him feeling desperate for the Time Lord.

"Not without knocking him out completely and we don't want to give him a general without proper interventions available," James advised formally. "His species appears to have a more significant neural interface with his skeletal structures than a human, hence the elevated pain. It is unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?!" Colonel Mace was the one to react. "Good God Man, look at the state of him!"

"You need to calm down," Martha advised the Colonel seriously. "If you don't calm down then I will shift you into a different room and while I don't have medications to sedate the Doctor, I can certainly sedate you further, so, calm down or you will leave me no choice but to do that."

"I am calm," Colonel Mace announced.

"Seriously calm," Martha instructed.

"Sir," James acknowledged the Colonel. "While I am aware that you may find the Doctor's discomfort distressing we are not equipped to deal with injuries in his species. We will do the best we can, we are doing the best we can, but until we can safely anaesthetise and fix his leg there is nothing else we can actually do."

"Do we know how long that is going to be?" Martha asked him.

"Jamie remains in surgery. I don't think they will be able to carry on much longer with her as she will need some time to recuperate. They will not be able to maintain her long enough to do all the work needed. I expect they will secure the tracheotomy and bring her back and fairly soon," James advised Martha. "Then we will be able to take him in. All the fixators are ready in surgery 2. We're just waiting for the personnel and while I believe we could go ahead it would be better to wait for the appropriate persons to be available, not that any of us are truly appropriate to deal with a Time Lord," James commented. "I have nothing to add or to suggest at this time, Doctor Jones."

"Okay," Martha accepted. James went back out of the room again. They didn't both need to be in there. Martha sighed and turned back to the Time Lord. "It's okay, Doctor. Jack will be back soon. You'll have to tell him how to fix the vortex manipulator and what drugs you need and we'll make sure we get the TARDIS stocked up appropriately before you leave as well," Martha commented knowing that the Doctor wouldn't think of it, even after suffering like this, he'd not think about putting anything in the TARDIS sickbay because it wouldn't happen to him once – it certainly wouldn't happen to him twice.

"There are better drugs available for him aren't there?" Colonel Mace asked.

"Yeah," Martha nodded. "They just aren't available on Earth, so, Jack is going to have to go and get them."

"Using that wrist computer thing Mr Smith brought for him?" Captain Price asked.

"Yes, the Doctor keeps on deactivating it," Martha offered and caressed the Time Lord's head. "I think maybe you should leave it working this time, huh?" Martha suggested but the Doctor just moaned. Martha looked at the monitors attached to him. He really needed to calm down. She didn't know how much he would be able to take until he ended up passing out. She hoped he just ended up passing out and not having a stroke or a heart attack with the continual strain. As he gagged and arched and cried out as if someone had grabbed hold of his leg and squeezed it even though she was the only one touching him and she was holding his hand and certainly not his leg, Martha worried that he'd not be able to tell Jack what he needed to know in order to fix the vortex manipulator properly.

"It's going to be alright." Martha didn't quite know what else to say. "Just relax."


	37. Chapter 37

Martha was waiting for Jack to come back from letting them know if the Harlequin was dead or not. She hoped they were going to come back and say it was dead and they didn't have anything to worry about in that regard, but it really didn't seem like it was going to be that simple. She had taken to sitting on the arm of the chair beside the Doctor's bed, holding his hand and stroking his hair back from his forehead. She knew he wasn't doing too well and she knew there was little she could do to help him until they could get him into surgery. She was having an internal debate on whether they should take him into surgery with a make shift surgical team rather than wait for her top anaesthetist. She wouldn't be waiting for Lauren if it wasn't the Doctor, but she just wasn't sure she was happy taking him in without the most experienced anaesthetist they had, yet James had been right when he'd said that no one was experienced when it came to the Doctor. If his blood oxygen level fell below 75% then she would intervene early. She decided that would be the mark to say that it was too much for him to continue as he was without it having a prolonged effect on his general health.

Martha jumped up from her seat when there was a whoosh of air in the Doctor's room. Captain Price leapt up as well as the pages from a magazine she had brought in but was sitting open on the bedside table all flapped in the wind. It wasn't coming from the ventilation system which might have meant the Harlequin was not dead and back in the ceiling space. It just seemed to arise as if a mini tornado had been deposited in the centre of the room. There was a flash of blue light and then a heavy thud, a clatter, a screech, and a groan. The whole of the Doctor's bed jolted and the scream originated from the Doctor as he was jerked on the bed as Jack hit the bed frame hard.

"Jack? What the Hell?!" Martha rounded the bed. Jack groaned as he picked himself up from the ground and got up to his knees. He lost his balance and dropped down onto his shoulder and groaned again. He was disorientated somewhat as he slumped down to sit on the ground. "Jack?" Martha knelt down to him. "What's going on?"

"That was rough," Jack complained miserably. "Two galaxies and three thousand years in one jump? Phew," he rubbed his face and winced slightly before putting a hand on the metal frame of the Doctor's bed and getting up to his feet.

"You're bleeding?" Martha looked at the Captain's face. He had a cut above his eye and that was swelling up somewhat.

"Disagreement over the price," Jack offered and shrugged. He touched the blood on his forehead and pulled a face. It was fine.

"The price for what?" Colonel Mace asked from the other side of the room. He was rather bemused that it seemed the Captain had just appeared out of thin air in the room when he should have been down investigating whether the Harlequin was dead or not.

"The drugs," Jack advised plainly. "I went to get the Doctor his drugs." He said it as if it was obvious as to where he had been and that it was all planned and that they knew where he had gone. He turned to the Doctor. "What's happened?" He looked at the Doctor's leg. "Has he been back into surgery? Damn? What happened? Why have you taken it out again?" Jack took the Doctor's hand and looked to Martha but she was puzzled.

"He's not had surgery yet," Martha commented.

"Oh? You're kidding?" Jack frowned and tapped the vortex manipulator. "I've slipped back in the time stream," he commented. "Um, shit, if he's not had surgery yet? Where am I?"

"You've gone to check if the Harlequin is dead or not."

"It is," Jack confirmed. "It's dead."

"Oh, thank the Lord," Captain Price commented.

"I've got his drugs," Jack indicated toward the Time Lord, but he was in too much pain to think about what he was half hearing Jack and Martha talk about. He drew a long solid case that was tucked into the front of his shirt. He'd had to put it in there in case he'd landed badly when he teleported back. "There are three different types of drug in here," Jack advised. "There are two for him to use now. One is a pain killer and the other is an inflammatory and muscle relaxant. They are both geared up for two hearted species and were originally made for Time Lords so perfect for him," Jack explained to Martha. "The other drug is an oral painkiller for him to take when he's had the proper surgery to stabilise him fully which is for moderate pain relief. It will be the equivalent of tramadol," Jack explained to Martha. "I've got two weeks of the first two drugs and twelve weeks for the oral one as we don't know how long it will take."

"Are you sure that it is right?" Martha asked him. "He told you?"

"Yes, but, Martha? He ends up in a real bad way, worse than this. He keeps passing out and coming round again and it's a while before he can have surgery yet. He can't tell me what he needs until after it," Jack commented quietly. "The time slip means I am back too early, so, you can give him the drugs and then he will be able to rest more easily until you can operate. I had better go and hide for a few hours so I don't bump into myself and cause temporal issues. I will use the vortex manipulator to leave about half an hour after he comes out of surgery, so, I will have to go and hide out until then," Jack advised.

"If the previous version of you comes back from the morgue and he has had the drugs?"

"He will know what to do in the event of a time slip. You can tell him," Jack commented. "He knows we have to protect the time line so he won't jump out until after the surgery. It won't be a problem. You can give the Doctor the drugs. Make sure they are the best ones, and if they aren't then I could actually go and get him some different ones back," Jack handed Martha the box. It contained 12 phials of 2 types of injectable drug and several blister packs containing small blue and orange capsules.

"Did he tell you what doses he should take?" Martha asked. It was all very well having the drug but if she didn't know how much to give him then it would be hard.

"Yes, he gets 1ml of each. They both contain one drug but in a fast acting and a long acting version, so he only needs 1ml of each every 8hrs. It should go in direct rather than in the drip," Jack commented. "The woman I got it from said it would be perfect, though she didn't quite believe that I had a Time Lord with a broken leg, apparently Time Lords don't get broken legs which is why when they do get broken legs they need good drugs like these," Jack repeated what he had been told halfway across the universe.

"And she hit you?"

"No, her boss hit me," Jack advised. "When he learned that we had a Time Lord with a broken leg the price of the drugs tripled. Needless to say I refused to pay the increased rate and he took objection and hit me," Jack offered. "So, I took the drugs and teleported out."

"So, 1ml of each of these direct into the canola?" Martha checked with him. She was sure that Jack could tell the stories of his trip intergalactic pharmacy trip when they had given the Doctor the drug. "And it's not going to cause a paradox giving it to him now?"

"No," Jack confirmed.

"Okay." Martha was quite worried about giving him the drugs without actually having the conversation herself, but if there was someone she trusted with the Doctor's best interests it was Captain Jack Harkness, whether the Doctor actually deserved him to hold them or not Jack held his interests to heart. Martha drew 1ml of the painkilling drug and 1ml of the muscle relaxing anti-inflammatory drug into the same syringe. "Doctor?" She took his hand for a moment. It wasn't even clear if she knew he was aware. "I've got some drugs here. They are called…" Martha looked at the drug name. "… actually I can't pronounce what it is called."

"It's abbreviated and commonly called NA1Z," Jack advised Martha.

"NA1Z?" Martha repeated.

"Yes… please," the Doctor gasped. That was good enough for Martha. She checked the syringe had no air in it and then she injected it in through the canola.

"There you go, Doctor," Martha held his hand after giving him the drug. It took a minute for the Time Lord's chest to stop staggering up and down on the snatched breaths and for him to sigh exhausted by the effort of just lying in a bed. "How is that?" Martha asked him quietly once he had seemed to calm down some more.

"Better," the Doctor responded. "It's still very painful because it is open, but once you have reduced that and closed it. It will be significantly better. Thank you," the Doctor felt like he was going to be able to live through the next five minutes. It still hurt a huge amount, but not like it had. He could breathe. He could fell his body relaxing into the mattress and welcoming the comfort of the softness beneath him. Jack had managed to get him the drugs. There was no way they could have got NA1Z on Earth in the 21st Century.

"Just rest and relax," Martha told him. When she was sure that he was going to be alright she would get him a cool cloth to wipe down his brow where he had been clammy and sweaty.

"Jack?" The Doctor reached out to take the Captain's hand as he remained to make sure the drugs were safe. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. The least I can do, sorry I knocked the bed a bit when I landed." Jack smiled, relieved that he'd actually done something useful.

"You time slipped?" the Doctor asked. It was the only explanation for how his vortex manipulator was working when he had not told him how to reset it yet.

"Yeah, I better head off for a few hours."

"You've hit your head."

"Yeah, I'll clean myself up," Jack offered. "I better go. I'll head to engineering and see if I can assist with the work on the cage they used to contain the Harlequin. If you let my current self know I am in there then he will refrain from going over there," Jack advised.

"But it is dead?" Colonel Mace confirmed.

"Yeah."

"How can you be so sure?" He checked with Jack.

"I will let me explain that to you properly when I get back. I better think about getting out the way. I won't be much longer."

"Was it accidental?" the Doctor asked Jack curiously.

"Was what accidental?"

"The time slip."

"Course it was," Jack nodded, but he smiled wryly. He'd actually aimed for a couple of hours earlier. He knew he couldn't have stopped him tipping the bed over, that would have been too much, but he'd aimed to be there with the drugs just about as soon as he had done. He'd not directly admit that to the Doctor, but he knew the Doctor knew. Crossing time streams had minor risks, but they could accommodate a few hours and it was worth it. He had been screaming, passing out, and throwing up for a couple more hours yet. At least now he could rest more comfortably until they could take him into surgery and it would take the pressure off Martha.

When Jack heard Private Coates shout something down the corridor he knew he was on the way back with the Private who had been shouting back to Corporal Lane who had been getting details for the family liaison team. "I need to go," Jack announced. "That's me on the way back with Private Coates." He leant over and kissed Martha on the cheek and then cheekily did the same to the Doctor. The Time Lord didn't react to it. It was not worth disturbing his leg for and Jack, well, Jack was Jack wasn't he? Jack dodged out of the room and was leaving the East Wing, but he was a little late as he was coming into the room as well. He almost bumped right into his earlier self. He knew how worried and upset he was at that time, but he'd not quite realised how evident it was going to be on his face. They both jumped back so not to touch each other, It was not the first time they had crossed paths accidentally, as Time Agents it was something they were trained to handle until it became instinct.

"Drugs?" His earlier self asked. He had been thinking about whether he could risk crossing his time line to get the drugs to the Doctor earlier. He obviously had made that decision, he hoped it was not because the Doctor was going to deteriorate, but then if he had the drugs now it would not matter.

"You're one good looking guy you know," he commented to himself and then winked at Private Coates who was standing open mouthed and agog. "You'll be catching flies in a minute, kid," Jack chuckled.

"How long?" His earlier self checked.

He looked at the vortex manipulator. "194 minutes," he announced. "I'll be in the engineering lab." HE could go down there and work without anyone realising that he was a temporal anomaly. When his current self teleported out he would become the dominant Jack within the timestream and it would be his time again. It was a pain in the backside to have crossed into the same time stream, but it was worth it for the Doctor to get the relief he needed. He just had to stay away until then. He headed off out of the back of the East Wing as the earlier, current Jack, hurried into the Doctor's room.

The Doctor was being helped by Martha to sit up ever so slightly using the bed control so that he was not completely flat but more able to interact. "How were there two of you?" Private Coates asked Jack as he went into the room.

"Did you just bump into yourself?" the Doctor checked with him.

"We didn't touch, and he's gone off. It's fine. It's not the first time, Doc, I'm just glad he's been able to get you the drugs. They seem to be working better for you?"

"Yeah, they are," the Doctor acknowledged.

"But how were there two of you?" Private Coates repeated his question.

"At some time in my future I am going to go off world in order to get the Doctor some drugs to better cope with his injury and his biology. When I come back I'm going to come back a few hours earlier so that he get his drugs now and he's not in so much pain while waiting for the surgery. I wasn't sure if I'd do it or not, but I obviously have."

"He said he did it accidentally," Colonel Mace commented.

"Accidentally on purpose," Martha elaborated for the Colonel.

"While I am relieved that you are feeling better, Doctor," Colonel Mace commented. "Has this drug errand caused us an issue? Isn't that a kind of paradox?"

"No, not a significant one. As a Time Agent I was trained in how to deal with temporal anomalies caused by accidental time slips. They are quite common when using vortex manipulators."

"That is because they're rubbish," the Doctor advised Colonel Mace. "Space hoppers get a dodgy bounce every now and then."

"Watch it, Doc, or I may just forget to have a time slip," Jack commented cheekily. "Then you won't get your drugs early."

"Ah, but then there would be a paradox because without the drugs he'd be in no condition to take the mickey would he?" Private Coates commented. Jack turned and looked at him and the Doctor smiled.

"He's right," the Doctor agreed. "That is quite a difficult temporal concept to grasp."

"Are we going to have a problem?" Colonel Mace checked again asking the Doctor rather than the Captain.

"No, there shouldn't be. The two Jacks need to stay apart and not touch or influence each other too much and then when this Jack teleports out there will be no further risks. It's not going to alter the course of the planet if I get some drugs early. It is not as if they are going to enable me to go off and make any significant changes to things. I just get the drugs early and quite frankly I am more relieved than worried about that right now as I was fairly sure I'd be regenerating before long," the Doctor advised. "Am I allowed a cup of tea?" he asked Martha.

"No, sorry, we're still hoping to get you into surgery in the next couple of hours so you're nil by mouth."

"Bleurgh," the Doctor complained and Martha smiled.

"You must be feeling better if you're worrying about tea," Jack offered.

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed. "What did you find out about the ghost?"

"We used setting 112 on the screwdriver and used both direct and indirect bursts and it did not glow," Jack advised.

"So, that means it is dead doesn't it?" Private Coates asked.

"Yeah, it means it is dead."

"Then we can stand down?" Colonel Mace checked.

"Yes, I think so," the Doctor confirmed. "Yes, I mean, if it is dead this time then it can't cause any more issues can it? You can stand down."

"Doctor?" Colonel Mace looked over to him. "You have said several times that you don't think that the actions surrounding the Harlequin Ghost make any sense. While I am relieved that it is deceased and it appears we can stand down, before we go through the actions of standing down and beginning the debriefing process, now you have more adequate pain control, can you explain why you don't think it makes sense?" the Colonel asked him, putting a hold on Captain Jack and Major Starkey going to start the debrief process.

"I'm not entirely sure," the Doctor confessed. "I don't profess to be an expert in Harlequin Ghosts."

"Since you were able to identify the creature you are more an expert than any of us."

"I have heard of them and I've read about them. Some of the things I have read are quite possibly exaggerated. That nature of the ghost is that there are few first hand accounts so much of it is also hearsay. I've never heard of an adult ghost being transported before. They are too dangerous. The Harlequin is not a tactical creature, there is no discrimination between those that are using it to kill and those they want it to kill. As far as the ghost is concerned if it is living then it should not be. I have read of one minor modification that had been bred into later versions of the ghost, versions, or models, or series. I am not sure what you would call them considering they are genetically modified and created to kill. They're like daleks without a casing, perhaps they are even more efficient than daleks, they are certainly bloodier in their slaughter, if there is one thing to be said about extermination it is clean – it bloody hurts, but it is clean."

"What is the modification?"

"I've read about ghosts that were modified to kill all they come across but to only maim any identified leaders. That is so that once the ghosts have finished and died the invading forces could come planet-side and take the leaders prisoner and gain information from them."

"And that would be why it didn't kill the Colonel?" Jack suggested as he listened intently. He turned to look at the Colonel. "You said that you identified yourself to it?"

"I did, yes."

"It took you out but it did not kill you."

"Does that mean someone is coming?" Captain Price asked worried as she took Colonel Mace's hand. "Is someone coming to take him prisoner?"

"No, love, it doesn't mean that," Mace patted the top of her hand with his other, but he did look across to the Doctor for confirmation of his understanding of the events. The Harlequin, whatever its intention, was not intended to arrive on their base.

"This was not a planned invasion. It was a crashed spaceship, but, what was an adult ghost doing on a spaceship? It is not anything I have ever read about," the Doctor admitted. "It doesn't feel right. I know that isn't much help, I'm not being much help at all, I'm sorry." The Doctor sighed.

"You don't need to apologise," Jack assured him. "Do you think we have anything else to worry about? I mean whatever the ghost was doing on the ship when it crashed, it is now dead. There is nothing else here and we're waiting for a most recent update from Peru but there is no other evidence of there being more than one ghost on board. The only things that were sent here were the not-deceased Harlequin ghost and the bit of the cage that it was found in. That was all that was forwarded to UNIT here."

"And I assume they only brought one ghost out of the wreckage. They don't have any in cool storage in Peru?" the Doctor checked.

"No," Jack confirmed.

"If the ghost is dead then I don't think there is anything else to be done except continue to treat the wounded and gather as much information as possible in the aftermath," the Doctor commented. "I guess then we might be able to explain why it was on the ship and why it bolted. Neither of those things make sense, but like I said before, I don't know as much about them as I should in order to make that kind of assumption. Maybe it is standard behaviour that has not been documented. We just have to find out as much as we can."

"Now it is dead someone will have to autopsy the ghost won't they?" Jack suggested.

"I don't think that it is such a priority now," Colonel Mace advised.

"I will do it, once everyone has been treated and are stable," Martha advised. "And, I'm sorry, Doctor, but if you're more comfortable and there is nothing we need to do surrounding the ghost, then I need to go and see if I can help with our other patients."

"Okay," the Doctor confirmed. "Thank you for looking after me."

"We've not done too well yet," Martha admitted and rubbed his shoulder. "But, we will get there. I will come back and let you know how long the surgery will be and no trying to get anyone to sneak you a cup of tea," she warned.

"Okay." The Doctor sighed when Martha went back out of his room. His leg was still agonising, but it was at the very edge of his tolerance now so he was not being entirely consumed by it when he had something else to concentrate on.

"How are you doing?" Jack asked him seriously and took his hand.

"It's still pretty bad."

"Forgive me, Doctor," Colonel Mace called over from his bed. He needed to rest but he was still not entirely sure that he could because of what the Doctor had said about the Harlequin not making sense. "The Ghost? Are you satisfied we can stand down?"

"I think so," the Doctor confirmed. "None of my concerns relate to its current condition. I just don't know why it was in the spacecraft. It being here is accidental and now it has been contained and killed. I am not sure how you managed to get it as you did and I don't know why it was in the spacecraft or why it bolted when shot in the head wound, but, if it is now dead then yes. I see no reason why you can't stand down."

"Maybe it was put in the space ship just to get rid of it?" Private Coates suggested.

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked.

"I read all the reports from Peru," Ethan advised.

"Okay, I still need to look at them properly, so what did you think?"

"There are pictures of the cockpit area of the spacecraft and it is badly damaged. All the console looks burned and melted. A lot of the metalwork is twisted and in a bad way. I don't see how anyone could have survived up there yet there was no indication of any crew. They found no one dead or injured. What if there was no one on the ship and it was just flying on automatic or something? Can they do that? Do they have autopilot on spaceships?"

"On some of them," the Doctor confirmed.

"If that Harlequin thing is so dangerous then perhaps they put it in the ship and sent it off their planet to get rid of it. Either someone went wrong with the ship and it crashed or they didn't both much about the navigation once it was away from their planet and it crashed. I think that is what happened. I think they put it in a cage on the space ship and then they shot it up into space to get rid of it. They probably expected it to die. I mean you said that they only live for a few days," Ethan suggested.

"Sounds like a reasonable theory," the Doctor commented. "It fits with there being no crew. What else do we know about the cage?"

"It's iron," Jack offered.

"Iron?" Colonel Mace checked. "It made its way through steel shutters, how was an iron cage going to hold it?"

"Maybe it was already unconscious?" Jack suggested curiously. It was found that way in the spacecraft.

"We already know that water was being pumped through the bars to keep the creature cold," the Doctor advised. "Maybe they were relying on that."

"I kind of have a theory about that as well?" Ethan suggested and looked to the Doctor as if seeking permission to share it. The Doctor smiled and nodded. "The water was pumped a narrow copper tubing around the iron bars," Ethan suggested. "I was thinking why would they do that? I know copper would get cold with the cold water as it conducts heat well, but, then I was thinking that if it was a space ship then there had to be better ways to refrigerate something. When I had the iron bar it stuck to your bed frame," Ethan told the Doctor. "It has been magnetised. It's not strongly magnetic now, but it is still a bit. I bet it's been dropped and battered and lost some of its magnetism, but what if it was not just water running through the copper coil but electricity as well."

"Like a solenoid?" the Doctor checked Ethan's theory.

"That is my theory, they created an electromagnetic field around the cage. I mean, think about it, Doctor?" Ethan's passion for his theory spilled out in his voice when he realised he wasn't being immediately shot down but that the Colonel, Captain Jack, and the Doctor were all listening to him intently. "That Harlequin Ghost didn't just glow when it was X-rayed. According to the tape we listened to Luke used an MRI and it glowed then as well. That is magnetic imaging. If it was biologically affected by magnetism then perhaps it would avoid it and that is how they contained it, or, it like it and that was how they contained it?"

"By creating an electromagnetic field around the cage using copper solenoids that had freezing water pumped through to give a further layer of defence against the creature?"

"Yes, and, then to be sure that it didn't escape they shoved it in a space ship and shot it off into space to really get rid of it, expecting it just to die. Maybe they were going to go back and get their spaceship later once the time had passed, but instead it got caught in the gravity of the Earth and it crash landed in the Andes, and then it got shipped over here for autopsy and woke up."

"Does that sound plausible to you, Doctor?" Colonel Mace asked the Time Lord who was contemplating what Ethan had theorised. It was a well thought out theory, and it did fit, it just still didn't sit well with him. There was something niggling him that had slipped down somewhere between the drugs and the cowboys and the immediate crisis. There was something else. He knew it was there but he couldn't quite grasp it yet, and even then he wouldn't know if it was real or paranoia or just his own ghosts.

"It does sound feasible," the Doctor agreed. "It is not something we can test now the Harlequin is deceased but it is a sound theory and it is more able to stand scrutiny than any I have come up with," the Doctor accepted. He gave Ethan an exhausted looking smile. "Well done."

"Do you think that is what really happened?" Ethan asked keenly.

"I don't know, but you may well be on the right track."

"Thank you for saving me from the ghost when it came in here," Ethan added realising he'd not mentioned it yet. "I'm sorry your leg is worse now."

"It will be better once I've had surgery," the Doctor offered.

"You're still not happy are you?" Jack asked the Time Lord.

"It is still considerably more painful than I can deal with in the long term," the Doctor offered. "The drugs have made a difference, but until the exposed bone is returned and secured it will remain acutely painful and there is little I can do but try not to acknowledge it and hope that a theatre becomes available quickly, despite any reservations I have about undergoing surgical procedures, I know that Martha will look after me and that it is the only way forward. It just hurts and it is wearing me down," the Doctor admitted candidly.

"I'm sorry." Jack moved in and caressed his head. He had however meant with the Harlequin rather than his leg.

"Does Private Coates's theory make sense to you?" Colonel Mace asked the Doctor. "Does it fill the gaps you feel we may have?"

"No, but, it may not be anything. It is dead and there is no evidence of anything else here or in the Andes. If we are missing something then I cannot see how it is an immediate or a critical concern. I just… it they were able to contain it with an electromagnetic cage then why waste a spacecraft to get rid of it. If it was contained and they knew it was going to die in a few days why send it off into space?"

"Perhaps they were desperate and panicking?" Private Coates advised. "Or they were tracking the spaceship to retrieve it once the Harlequin was dead, but now it's crashed they've scarpered because they're scared of the Harlequin."

"That is certainly understandable if faced with a Harlequin," the Doctor confirmed. "Maybe it is just their way of defence. I can't ever see anyone deliberately choosing to transport an adult Harlequin. That is simply too dangerous," the Doctor commented and then sighed. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm not exactly on top form."

"And, we've not exactly provided you with the correct environment for you to receive the treatment you needed when you arrived, and I am sorry for that, Doctor. I think that despite any reservations or gaps in the actual reason why the Harlequin Ghost ended up here in the base that we are content that now it is deceased it is no longer providing us with a direct threat. We can continue to debate the reason for it being on the spacecraft for an age, yet, it remains important that we get resume normal operation as soon as possible," the Colonel advised. "Captain Jack, would you be kind enough to liaise with Major Starkey and stand down the alert. Where are we at right now?"

"Ward 1 and 2 are being put back as we speak," Jack assured him. "All critical care patients have been relocated into the intensive care beds so are now in a suitable area."

"Have their next of kins been contacted?"

"For the most seriously injured," Jack confirmed.

"What about for the dead?"

"No, not yet," Jack admitted.

"Okay, we have eight trained family liaison officers," Colonel Mace advised Jack. "I cannot transfer those duties to you I'm afraid. It would be improper for a Torchwood representative to deliver that kind of news."

"In this case I am quite glad of the fact," Jack offered. "It is a grave task that I have had to perform too many times."

"Quite," Colonel Mace agreed. "May I trust you with the more general running if Major Starkey were to lead that?"

"Sir, are you sure you want her to?" Jack asked quietly. "No disrespect but she I not the most compassionate of people. I am not sure she will be good with grieving families."

"I only want her to coordinate. She will be attending with a family liaison. I need 8 groups with one liaison and one commander. Captain and above. How many dead do we have?"

"23 Sir."

"23?" Colonel Mace sighed and shook his head. "It is a Saturday. How do we end up with 23 dead on base on a Saturday afternoon? Send 7 of the liaisons out and leave one on site. The most senior should remain here to handle the next of kin coming in for the injured and anyone who wants to come in and see their relatives if they are dead."

"I'm not sure how soon we can allow that," Jack offered. "Many of the dead have got serious injuries and we have not been able to set up any kind of area for viewing."

"Is Father Henry on site?" Colonel Mace asked.

"I'm not sure."

"Make sure he is contacted. He will be critical in setting up a Chapel of Rest. I also know that Captain Harcourt is amongst the deceased. He was Jewish. I want you to make sure there is a Rabbi available to bless his body and I believe they need to be kept company until they are buried?" Colonel Mace commented.

"They believe the soul remains in the body until burial," the Doctor confirmed.

"Then I want you to speak to his UNIT and see if any of his friends will do that for him until his family arrive and then ensure that they are able to keep a vigil for him if that is their intention," the Colonel advised and Jack nodded. "Are any of our Islamic soldiers amongst the dead?"

"I am unsure," Jack admitted. He didn't know the UNIT personnel the same way as the Colonel did.

"Then ensure we find out. We have our own Imam. I want him to be contacted anyway to provide pastoral care to anyone affected, but, the alien is contained, Martha and her team will do all she can for the living. We now need to make sure we do everything we can for the dead – for the relatives of the dead."

"Yes Sir," Jack nodded.

"In my office there is a series of files. There is one for every unit staff member. My secretary will be able to fish them out, but each of them contains an instruction on what we should do if they are killed in the line of duty. They need to be read and the instructions followed as far as we can," the Colonel advised. "Get Major Starkey onto it as the next priority."

"Yes Sir," Jack confirmed. He rubbed the Doctor's shoulder. "I won't be long, but I need to go and do this. I will send Mickey in to keep you company."

"Thanks a bunch," the Doctor grumbled.

"Private? Are you going to come and give me a hand?" Jack asked Private Coates.

"With the dead?" He looked a bit worried about that.

"Not with the dead, but in getting them what they need."

"They don't need anything do they? They're dead," the Private commented.

"Don't you think it is a priority or important?" Colonel Mace asked him. "Off the record?"

"Who for, Sir? It's not going to be important to them when they are dead is it?"

"No, it's not," Colonel Mace agreed. "But, you have written an in case of death instruction haven't you?"

"Yes, I said I want to be buried with my brother," Private Coates advised.

"When you're dead will that matter to you or to your brother?"

"No, I don't suppose it will."

"But it means something to you now, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"And, it will mean a great deal to your friends and your family here at UNIT if the worst were to happen. When a soldier dies there has been a failure somewhere along the line in order to allow that to happen. When we have not been able to save someone the last thing we can do for them is to ensure their last wishes are met. We have a duty to do so. The men and women who die on duty at UNIT do so protecting the planet. We have a duty to them to respect their final wishes and to provide their families and friends with the best support we can," the Colonel commented. "I cannot be done while we are still in crisis and it cannot be done by medical when so many living require support, but in combination with chaplaincy we will get it done sooner rather than later in order to provide timely honey to our fallen colleagues and to provide what limited comfort we can to those that survive them, including ourselves. It is important to me that each of our dead colleagues receives the appropriate care and treatment. Gone are the days when they would be delivered to a standard memorial in a plain plywood box. We still have a duty of care to them and to their families and friends whether it is something we actually believe or not," the Colonel advised.

Private Coates thought about it for a moment. Then he nodded once and turned. "Hang on a second, Captain Harkness, I'll come and help."

"Good lad," Colonel Mace acknowledged and Coates hurried out to assist where he could. As soon as the Private had gone Colonel Mace sighed heavily and rested his head back against the pillows more fully. He winced slightly as he tried to relax.

"They will take care of it, Alan," Captain Price assured him and caressed his head.

"23 dead?" Colonel Mace commented and then sighed. "It should be me doing that."

"It was very nearly you they were doing it for, love," Captain Price reminded him. "You can't get too involved this time. You need to rest and stay calm, remember. Do you need to use your clicker?" She asked him.

"Too many have died." He sighed unhappily.

"There is always too many, love," Captain Price agreed. "But, you saved them. You stopped more from getting killed by getting it into a position where they could shoot it. Now you just need to relax and to get better. You couldn't do anything else today. It's not your fault."

"I could have told Alistair not to bother sending his damned aliens for autopsy over here. We were already too busy with trying to get all the training done and now I've got boys who should be cadets trying to figure out how to run the show."

"They are doing alright as far as I can see," Captain Price commented. "Captain Harkness will make sure that Major Starkey gets everything that needs to be done sorted out."

"Harkness," the Colonel breathed. "He's Torchwood and he's stepped in here."

"He's doing a good job."

"Yes, he is," the Colonel agreed. "But, they are my men. They were under my command, not his."

"And they did well. They did what they trained and lived for," Captain Price reminded him. "It is alright, Alan, they will take care of it all. Use your clicker, love? Don't lie here in pain. You've got two doses in there," Captain Price encouraged him. "I'm sure that your men would say the same, love. You being in pain is not going to make any of them feel any better and it is not going to bring back the dead. You suffering does not spare them it only heightens their pain because they are all concerned for you too. They followed your command today because they respect you and they believe in you, but it is more than that, Alan. Many of these young men love you like they would their fathers."

"And they have died."

"Some of them have, yes," Captain Price commented. "And that hurts, but you lying here in pain with your injuries is not going to mean that it hurts any less that they have died," Captain Price offered. She kissed him on the head. "Let me do it for you?" Captain Price took the clicked. Colonel Mace didn't stop her so she pressed the button and delivered him a dose of morphine. The Colonel visibly relaxed as the drugs took effect. "Rest love?"

"Yeah." He suddenly started to sound a little bit broken now they were mostly in private.

"Do you want me to ask Martha if she can give you something to help you relax?"

"Martha has enough to do without worrying about me."

"How many times do we have to tell you? Martha will be more worried about you trying to be a martyr when you don't have to be than in coming clean and saying you need some help," Captain Price scolded him softly. "Do you want something to help you sleep?"

"No."

"Then close your eyes, love, and rest." Captain Price kissed him lightly on the lips and caressed his head as the Colonel found it increasingly hard to keep his eyes open. He should not be sleeping like this when his men, the living and the dead, needed him, but it seemed he would fail them again as he drifted off into slumber.


	38. Chapter 38

The Doctor laid on his bed and tried not to listen to the way in which the Colonel was letting Captain Price, his partner, see how hurt he was by the deaths. Now the people acting on his behalf had left the room he no longer had to maintain his air of control and command. The Doctor realised that he was hurting, not just with his injury, but with the deaths and with the pain of every one of his men who had been hurt. The Doctor did try not to listen, but they were in the same room as him and that room was technically only designed for one. Jack had gone out but Mickey had not come in yet to keep him company, and if he did not think about their conversation then the only thing he had to concentrate on was the pain in his leg.

It remained too much even with the new drugs. They thought that because he was able to draw breath and was not writhing with it that it was better, and, of course it was – because he could breathe and was not writhing, but it was not good. He doubted it would be good at all until he had the surgery and then that was only going to be temporary. When he had the full surgery to stabilise him it would be better again, but not until then. He heard what Marion said about coming clean to Martha. It was what he'd been told so many times before, not necessarily only about injuries but about not talking and not coming clean.

Colonel Mace was suffering the pain of his injury but he was feeling the deaths of those that had died under his command, those who had followed his orders and gone into battle. They were soldiers. People who had elected to come into UNIT in order to protect the planet. He had led people into battle and it wasn't even their battles. People who had not signed up and had not trained as soldiers had died in his name, had died for his causes. What was it he was told? That he turned ordinary people into weapons? As he laid and listened to Captain Price trying to console Colonel Mace and get him to admit to Martha that he might need some help to rest the Doctor could hear the same conversations echoing through his own head.

He could actually see when considering it from the outside view of Colonel Mace how it would be easier for Martha to deal with things if Mace came clean to her. He could see it so plainly now it was not himself at the centre of it but a reflection. Martha was a brilliant young physician who was loving and compassionate. It was important to give her the information she needed so that she knew how best to proceed and as she had sometimes put it so she didn't have to enter into guessing games. He wondered what he'd actually say to her if she came in and he took to being totally honest with, well with himself more than with her. It was never about not telling Martha, it was about not acknowledging it to himself. He wondered if it was the same for Mace. He expected it was.

He was scared. He was, not Mace, though Mace might be as well, but he was. He should probably admit that to Martha. He'd had surgery before in a human hospital and that really had not ended well at all. He was saying he was okay with general anaesthetics because they shouldn't just kill him straight, but he didn't know just how he would handle them. Different ones could make him feel pretty unwell and he'd not had any in this generation, for all he knew he was deadly allergic to them and one sniff would have him regenerating – or not. He'd taken ether in this generation. It had been accidental and he'd ended up with a headache though as Martha had pointed out that may have been due to his braining himself on the science lab bench rather than the ether itself. He blamed the ether.

He knew he needed surgery. He also knew he needed it more than once. In fact he knew he was going to need it at least four times over the next few months, possibly more. He needed it now to close the open fracture and hopefully stabilise it a bit to reduce the play the cowboys had with it. Then when the swelling went down he'd need the surgery to fully stabilise the fractures in his ankle, leg, and knee and turn his leg into an inside out cyber-leg for a while. He would need another surgery once the bones had started to knit in order to repair the ligaments in his knee and ankle. Then once he was healed a final surgery would remove all the hardware.

It scared him. The thought of being put under a general anaesthetic scared him once. It scared him more to think it was going to have to happen four times. He was not human. His body wasn't always going to respond in the way a human doctor expected a human patient to respond. He was not a doctor either, he did not always know how a human wound expect the body to respond with a human nor did he know how his body would respond so that he could let them know in advance that if such and such happened then it would do this in a human but would do this in him. He didn't know what the potential such and suches were and he didn't know what the potential such and suches would do to a human and he didn't know what the potential such and suches would do to a Time Lord.

He trusted Doctor Martha Jones with his life. He also trusted Captain Jack Harkness with his life, but that was when they were in battle or in the middle of an adventure. They trusted him with their lives as well. That didn't mean they would necessarily trust him to give them a gas that would totally remove any conscious ability from them so that he could hammer nails and wires and various other things into their smashed legs. Though, knowing both Martha and Jack if he had said it was necessary to do it then they would just let him. Jack would certainly, Martha might have been a bit more reticent about it.

It might be hard enough as it was to get him to actually breathe in the anaesthetic gas without it triggering his bypass. If he was particularly worried about it or scared about the surgery at the time then he might instinctively shut his airway down and then not breathe the gas. What if they didn't realise that he'd not breathed it in properly? They might start to operate on him and he'd not be properly out of it? And, general anaesthetics were not pain killers, they just prevented movement and reaction. What if he felt every one of the cuts and slices and drills and hammers?

He didn't like having a mask over his nose and mouth when it contained life giving oxygen. When it contained a gas that would taste strange and lead him to be disassociating with himself he didn't know if he would be able to do it. Then he would be embarrassed because it would become clear that he was not only too scared to breathe the gas but that he had no control at all over his bodily functions as his bypass triggered. If they didn't realise then they'd carry on feeding him the gas until his bypass was depleted and then he'd have no reserve if anything did go wrong.

He should probably tell Martha about that. He should probably tell her how to watch for if his bypass went and that if he needed to be intubated then she had to use a straight rather than a curved intubation device. He should tell her that there would probably still be a bit of blood but that it was nothing to worry about unless there was a massive haemorrhage. He would have to tell her to let his bypass flick off and recover before trying to anaesthetise him again, but then if he told her all of the things that worried him would she feel more or less confident about operating on him?

He knew she had to be worried about it as well. If she was not then why were they waiting for the most experienced team when it was only going to be a quick leg fix? If she was not worried then she'd just be taking him in with the B tea. It wasn't a serious operation in real terms, a quick pin insertion, so why wait for the best to come out of the critical life-saving surgeries that their experience was required for? It was because she was worried about operating on him, so if he admitted he was worried about being operated on then it would make her less confident and more worried wouldn't it?

Was that fair and was that conducive to having a safer surgery? It was not that he did not have full confidence in Martha's ability. He did. She was a brilliant doctor. It was just he wasn't human. If he had to have surgery then he'd want her to be doing it, well, short of being able to take a trip back to Gallifrey and having Time Lord medics do it, though they'd probably not waste their resources in the face of a leg injury like his and just trigger a regeneration. He didn't want to regenerate. He didn't want to go. He wasn't ready to go. He just wanted to stay and no one was knocking were they? It wasn't time for him to go.

He was getting paranoid about prophecies, he didn't want to regenerate, that meant he had to put his trust in Martha and in 21st century medical techniques. They were probably the best to deal with Time Lord bones anyway. Advanced human grafting and cementing techniques would not be successful for a Time Lord. With his immune system the difference between using titanium pins and using laser pins was insignificant, besides, Martha would not be able to carry out any of those techniques and then it would be worse. He'd end up being totally screwed.

"You alright there, Boss?" Mickey had come into the room. He'd not even realised he had. He'd been so lost in his own worries and concerns that he'd made it all the way over to his bedside before he'd even acknowledged him.

"I'm scared." The words came out of his mouth before his brain kicked in with the drugs and changed the truth to a confidence building tactical lie of yes, he was fine. He had to believe he was fine didn't he, and damn? He'd just told Mickey the Idiot that he was scared. What a bloody stupid thing to do. What was the idiot now? It had to be the drugs. There was no way he would have opened his mouth and allowed that kind of idiocy to come out to Mickey if he wasn't. He closed his eyes and sighed and waited for him to be ridiculed and jibed.

"About having surgery?" Mickey asked him as he pulled the seat over a bit. Oh, he was taking a pew and getting himself comfortable. It was going to be a prolonged ridicule and jibing session. Mickey couldn't imagine the Time Lord being scared about the ghost, not now it was dead anyway, unless he had figured something else out that he needed to run and tell Captain Jack about.

"Yeah." He couldn't safely back track now could he? Mickey had noticed the words that had come out of his mouth. Maybe he should just say he was scared of the ghost. That was more realistic wasn't it?

"That is understandable," Mickey commented kindly.

"Is it?" the Doctor asked wondering if Mickey was being genuine or if he was going to get him to open up and then come in for the kill.

"Course it is. All surgeries carry some kind of risk don't they? You're putting absolutely every control you have in someone else's hands."

"Way to make me feel better," the Doctor grumbled.

"It's true though, Boss. It's okay to be scared and nervous about that. Martha is going to look after you though, and, when you do go down we will all be here waiting for you when you wake up. That will be something for you to look forward to won't it?" Mickey teased him slightly. He wasn't being mean about it though. He would have been mean to Mickey about it. Like when he'd screamed when a whole cupboard of freeze dried rats had landed on him. He had never admitted to Mickey that he'd probably have ended up being scared by that as well. Not because of the rats but because of the shock factor and instead he'd ribbed him about pigtails and screaming like an eight year old girl.

"I had surgery about three months ago," Mickey advised the Doctor.

"Three months?" The Doctor tried to get the time line right in his head. "That would be after the planets in the sky?" Mickey would have been in this universe?

"Yeah," Mickey confirmed. "About four weeks after. Martha did that for me as well. Man, I was scared going into it though. I didn't think I was going to wake up. I had a bad time with an anaesthetic when I was a kid. I had to have a couple of teeth taken out and they wanted to do it in the hospital. I was intensive care for a week after that. I've never felt so ill in my life, so then I had to have surgery again and I was proper bricking myself."

"Did you tell Martha you were worried?"

"Yeah, and she was great. She spent ages trying to find my medical files and then looked at what had made me sick. She told me about all the different changes in the anaesthetics that had been made. The one that had made me sick wasn't even in use anymore. She explained everything to me and when I came round I didn't even feel sick! It was fine," Mickey advised. "Plus, Martha isn't a bad view to be coming round too, eh, Boss, if you catch my drift?" Mickey nudged the Time Lord very gently. The Doctor didn't comment on that.

"What did you have surgery for?"

"I dislocated my ankle. Snapped all the ligaments right through and needed them surgically repaired," Mickey commented. "God, you'd have thought I broke it. Martha isn't sure how there wasn't any breaks in there. Guess it was all the milk I drink or something," Mickey advised. "It was totally dislocated though and God it bloody hurt. I had to have surgery to reattach some ligaments and I got a screw to hold the tibia and fibula together so that it could heal even though there were no breaks in there. I still ended up in a cast for six weeks. I've still got a support on it now and have to do some physio and stuff, but it is pretty good. I'm lucky that Jack called Martha in and didn't just dump me at the local hospital or something. Martha reckons they might have delayed the surgery and seen if it healed conservatively and then I'd be in more trouble now. Martha did the surgery straight away and it's just about back to normal," Mickey commented. "You're in good hands with Martha, Boss."

"I know," the Doctor confirmed. "How did you dislocate your ankle?" the Doctor asked wanting to take his mind off things.

"Captain Cheesecake did it."

"Jack?" the Doctor checked and then frowned. Jack wouldn't hurt anyone, not deliberately, not anymore. He'd certainly not hurt Mickey.

"Yep, Captain Jack Harkness almost crippled me for the last piece of pepperoni pizza," Mickey commented. He sounded gravely serious to begin with and then he laughed. "We were fighting over a bit of pizza," he elaborated more cheerfully.

"What? Really fighting?"

"Nah, not really fighting. I'm not that stupid. If I ever got into a proper fight with Jack I'd be dead in seconds. He'd do me over in a heart beta in a real fight. He's bloody strong, don't tell him I told you that though."

"No, I think his head is big enough already," the Doctor agreed. "But how do you get a dislocated ankle over a bit of pizza?"

"I pinched the last piece of pepperoni pizza. It wasn't even the last bit of pizza. There was Hawaiian and vegetarian left. We both wanted the pepperoni one though and I nicked it and he gave chase. We were just horsing around you know. Ianto and Gwen were there and were egging us both on. We'd had a few beers. We'd spent most of the last three days trying to track down a weevil in the sewers so Jack bought us all pizza just to have a nice evening. We started to wrestle a bit and try to get a bite of the pizza and then my foot just turned the wrong way. I fell over and Jack fell on top of me and that was the end of that. It was totally accidental, but God it hurt. I can't imagine what yours feels like. You've had a dislocated ankle as well as everything else on top haven't you?"

"Yeah," the Doctor admitted. "I thought my leg was going to come off," he offered sheepishly.

"What? Literally?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure I've ever been so scared, Mickey. There was no one there and I could hardly breathe. It was only because the TARDIS helped me that I didn't just pass out and stay passed out and then I'd still be out there on my own. My leg was hanging and flopping in the middle. Where it is not supposed to bend. Where it is never supposed to bed. It was just hanging like it was about to come off and was totally snapped through. I didn't know what to do."

"At least you've got Martha now, huh?" Mickey squeezed the Doctor's hand. He couldn't imagine how terrifying it would be to see your own leg actually flopping over. He was almost in hysterics when he'd hurt his ankle. Jack had tried to block his view of it to begin with but his foot was rotated around. When he'd see it he'd gone mental and that was with Gwen, Ianto, and Jack there all trying to support and keep him calm. "I'm glad that Jack was able to go and get those better drugs for you. They seem to be helping."

"They are," the Doctor confirmed. "It will be better after the operation. It's still bad now."

"You're pretty pale," Mickey offered. "In fact you look like total shit, Boss. Has anyone told you that? And, that really is one Hell of a shiner you've got there as well. I didn't expect you to be so bad when Jack asked me to drive up because you'd broken your leg. He didn't tell me how seriously you'd done it. I guess I should have known that there would be no half measures with you. There is no point doing something the easy way if you can do it the Doctor way is there?" Mickey teased him.

"Guess not." The Doctor smiled at Mickey's efforts to make him feel better. They were working. "It would always be bad though. Time Lord bones don't break that easily so when they reach a point where it is going to happen it is usually a bad injury because of the forces required. They'd not just tend to crack but to really go and then the neural system makes them hurt quite a bit, or very much a lot, more than a lot. I always knew it would hurt a lot, but I never really imagined it would hurt this much. I'm totally incapacitated by it."

"You've got a broken leg, Boss. You're supposed to be incapacitated by it."

"It is all I can think about. All Hell has been breaking loose and I've been totally useless. I had Wilfred and Ethan trying to push my bed out the way of the Harlequin because I could do nothing to protect myself even as it was coming through the ventilation hatch above my bed!" The Doctor sounded ashamed and distressed by it. "That is an old man and a kid!"

"From what I heard you protected both of them and that is how your leg got worse."

"Only because they had already started to tip the bed. If they'd not managed to do that then there would have been nothing I could do, and it was hardly a success."

"I don't think you should worry about any of that now anyway, Boss. The alien is contained. They only know what it is because of you and you gave them the information to deal with it and to kill it. You may not have been running around like a loon…"

"Like a what?"

"A loon." Mickey clarified and chuckled. "And, don't try to tell me you wouldn't have been if you could have been."

"Maybe."

"Definitely," Mickey argued. "What is it you say is good for fighting? You don't have weapons but you have this?" Mickey tapped his head. "You don't carry a gun, you have your mind. Well, you still ended winning out today because of what you know. The information you gave informed the soldiers and the orders received. Shooting it in the head wound worked. Liquid nitrogen worked. So even if you were stuck in a bed you were able to help, and, Martha will be able to fix your leg soon and she'll get you running around like a loon again, but I tell you one thing now for free, Boss."

"What is that?"

"You might think that James bloke is a bit harsh and cold. When it comes to doing what you're told and doing the physio and exercises you need to do in order to rehab once you're healing Martha Jones is a slave driver. Believe me. I have had her for the last three months!" Mickey commented. "By phone a lot of the time. She puts it on speaker and then sets Gwen and Jack on me. Mind you, Jack has been pretty good about it. I think he feels guilty about it, not that he needs to," Mickey commented. The door opened and Jack came back into the room.

"Talk of the Devil, isn't that what you lot say?" the Doctor asked. "Talk of the Devil and he will appear?"

"You walking about me then?" Jack raised his eyebrows at the Doctor. "Let me guess. It's about how brilliant and handsome I am?" "No."

"What, I featured in your conversation and that didn't even get a mention?"

"Not a one," Mickey commented and then laughed.

"Mickey was just telling me how you almost broke his ankle for him," the Doctor advised.

"Oh," Jack commented. He actually sounded and looked genuinely worried about it and the Doctor regretted turning it into a joke. If they had been fighting over a bit of pizza then it sounded like they were having some welcome fun and sometimes things like that happened.

"Did he tell you that he's got the hots for our Martha Jones?" Jack quickly turned it back around onto Mickey. The Doctor glanced at Mickey and swore that he blushed as he looked away bashfully. Jack burst out laughing.

"Jack, keep it down a little, huh?" Mickey scolded as Colonel Mace was sleeping in the adjacent bed.

"Yeah, we should keep it down," the Doctor accepted. He almost envied the Colonel that he'd managed to get to sleep. "Did you sort out what he asked for with the dead?"

"Major Starkey has called the liaisons and the chaplaincy team in. They have a really good set up here for dealing with bereavement. I think with the Sontarans and the daleks they've had a fair bit of practise," Jack commented sadly. "But they have their own Vicar and an Imam and they have regular access to a Rabbi, a Hindu Preacher and a Sikh Minister," Jack advised. "Major Starkey is getting them all called in and they will start contacting the families. They are going to go out and do it face to face where possible. That is not a task I envy them," Jack offered solemnly. "It is going to be very difficult for some time, but they don't need me to be in direct involvement with it for a while."

"What is Ethan doing?" the Doctor asked.

"He helped sort out which liaisons will go to which families based on their locations and he's putting together an information pack to leave behind with the contact details that the families might need so if they can't take it all in they have a reference point," Jack advised. "That is his idea too. Said that when his brother was killed he was told about all the different people he needed to contact and then he couldn't remember any of them because he was so upset in the first instance. They are also getting in touch with UNIT in Leeds and in Portsmouth to see if they can spare any liaisons to come down and provide additional support. The issue that we have got is that as soon as the liaisons go out the news of what has happened here will start to break. At the moment it is contained within the base and there have been no known information leaks. As soon as the liaisons start going out it will start so I've got Major Starkey onto the Press Office as well. They are preparing an initial statement indicating that there has been an incident contained on the base and that a full investigation will be conducted," Jack advised. "Something along those lines."

"Perhaps you should ask Sarah Jane what to say?" the Doctor commented. "She'll know what the minimum information accepted will be."

"I might ask her to speak to Major Starkey about it," Jack nodded his agreement.

"Will Colonel Mace have to approve a statement?" Mickey asked.

"Not now he's injured," Captain Price overheard. "I am sure he will want to know what is being said when he wakes, but he trusts you to handle things, Captain, or he would not have put you in post," she advised Jack.

"Major Proctor will be here within a couple of hours. It has been confirmed that he is in the air on route back. I think everyone will be happier then," Jack commented. He had been relieved when they had confirmed that Colonel Mace's usual number two was going to be back soon in order to take over base command while the Colonel recovered. "It took them a while to locate him. He had boarded a cruise ship in the Mediterranean but he has been airlifted off it and is being brought back."

"Who is he?" the Doctor asked.

"He is Colonel Mace's normal number two. He has been on leave."

"It is typical isn't it?" Captain Price suggested. "It is the first leave he has taken since the dalek invasion. We were just getting back up to speed. Even Alan was talking about taking a couple of weeks off base when Major Proctor returned. He's not had a day off since the daleks and no more than two days off since the Sontarans," Captain Price sighed and caressed his head.

"I heard what he said about the men and women who died under his command," the Doctor offered sensitively. "You need to make sure he knows that with a Harlequin Ghost on site that he could not have saved those that came into direct contact with it. His actions and the actions of the men and women under his command have ensure the ghost has been contained and prevented from escaping the base. If that thing had got off base and into the city? Hundreds of people would have been killed in a very short period of time, it would have been carnage," the Doctor advised Captain Price on the Colonel's behalf. "He and his men should be highly commended."

"Yes they should."

"I know that it is unlikely to make the losses easier to bear or to relieve his personal burden."

"No, it won't."

"But, it may be useful to provide a balance in the days ahead," the Doctor offered.

"Maybe," Captain Price offered. "I hope it does. Thank you, Doctor."


	39. Chapter 39

Private Coates had been tasked by Major Starkey to go and gather information from medical about the injuries to the most critically wounded so that the liaison officers and the chaplaincy had access to the information in order to discuss it with relatives when they started to arrive. The medical liaison would carry out the initial briefs and maintain a dialogue with the next of kin, but the family liaisons needed to be aware in order to provide the correct support. It was no point a liaison officer commenting on what would happen when a patient recovered if their injuries meant their recovery would not be complete. Major Starkey believed the Private to be the perfect choice to go and gather the information. He had proven himself capable of giving good briefs and he had a desire to become a communications and intelligence officer so it would be good experience for him.

He went into the East Wing. He wasn't quite sure who he should go and see for the information. Everyone in there looked to be very busy and he realised that even as everyone was being stood down there was going to be no rest for the medical team for some time yet.

"Stand there too long like that, kid, and you'll end up getting bandaged up," Stan commented as Private Coates tried to figure out who to go and see and stood in the middle of the triage area. There was still one person waiting to be seen. It looked like one of the chefs though so he didn't think they would have been involved with the Harlequin.

"Sorry."

"What can I do for you? Are you hurt? I've seen you running round all over the place, they've had you working for your cheque today haven't they?"

"I'm not hurt," Private Coates assured him. He didn't think he had been busy compared to how busy Stan must have been. "I have to get a medical brief for Major Starkey," he commented. "Who should I go to see about that?"

"It's a bit early for the medical brief, kid, they've still got people waiting to go into surgery. We'd normally be thinking about giving briefings after the first 24 hours."

"Oh," Private Coates commented. "It's for the liaison team?"

"Ah, then you'll probably just want the most critical for now. You'll either have to speak to Doctor Jones or to Matron Caulfield," Stan advised. "I saw Doctor Jones in with a patient a little while ago. I'm not sure where Matron Caulfield is at the moment."

"I'm not sure who that is?" Private Coates admitted a little shyly.

"Course you do, you know Anita don't you?"

"Yeah, I know Anita," Private Coates confirmed. "That's Matron Caulfield?" he checked.

"Yep," Stan commented. He seemed to be far too young to be looking at going to be getting the medical brief. From what he had seen Stan knew there wasn't going to be much good news coming with regards some of the critical patients.

"I will see if I can find one of them," Private Coates suggested. "Thank you."

As Ethan walked through he saw a few of his friends that were waiting for minor injuries to be dealt with properly, but he couldn't stop and talk to them. Those who were going to need to stay in for treatment or were awaiting surgery had been transferred into the wards now. Only new people coming in or those with minor things that would just be dealt with so they could be sent back to barracks or for some back on duty were still in the East Wing. He had to get on and get the information for the liaisons so they could do their work. He thought he might actually have more luck finding Martha or Anita if he went down to the wards, but he heard Martha's voice coming from one of the make shift cubicles.

There was a soldier lying on the couch. He had a drip in and some bandages on an elevated leg and some more bandages around his shoulder, but Doctor Jones had gloves on and was palpating his abdomen and making the soldier moan as she did. When she pressed to the side of his navel he cried out.

"I'm sorry, Andy," Martha felt over the area. "I'm going to order a scan. Hopefully it is just bruising, but we don't want to miss any internal bleeding do we? I'll order the scan to be done down here and then get you up to ward 2 until we're sure what we're going to be doing with you."

"Ma'am," the soldier acknowledged.

"I'll go and get the scanner," Martha advised. She turned to go and order the scan for him and saw that Private Coates was watching. "Private? What are you doing there?" she asked him. He should not have been stood watching what was going on with a patient.

"Sorry, Ma'am, I have been sent to get the medical brief for the family liaison. The old paramedic guy said I should get it from you or Anita and I'm not sure where she is."

"They sent you to get the brief?" Martha asked him not completely disguising her sense of belief in her tone.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Well, I just need to get a scan ordered for Andy and then we will see about the brief." Martha knew it was important to get it done in time for any next of kin arriving. There were a few cars being sent out to pick local people up and it had been confirmed from UNIT in Leeds that contact had been made with Lawrence Ashburn's wife and that she was being provided transport. "Stay here with Andy for a minute," Martha commented.

"You okay, kid?" Andy asked Ethan as he looked a bit out of his depth. He wasn't sure why Martha had sounded surprised and disappointed when he said he had come to get the medical brief. He thought he had done a good job and that Martha liked him. He didn't want her to get even more stressed about everything. He nodded but didn't answer straight away. Andy was thirty four and had been at UNIT since he was a cadet at 21. He had plenty of experience and he knew what it was like to be involved in a first incident, though to get a cadet to get a brief seemed like they were scraping the barrel somewhat. "Sure?"

"You're asking me if I'm alright Sir. Shouldn't I be asking you if you're alright?" Ethan commented.

"Well, I think it is fairly plain to see that at the moment I'm not alright, but I will be fine."

"What did it do to you?"

"Ripped my shoulder and cut my leg," Andy advised. "Took a whack to the guts which is pretty sore. Sure it is nothing to be too worried about though. Damn alien thing. I hear it is confirmed dead and we're standing down now."

"Yes Sir."

"Bloody good thing too. All aliens should be shot on sight. Can't bloody trust any of them as far as I'm concerned. Don't you think, kid?" Andy checked with him.

"Um, I…"

"Oh, don't tell me you're one of these new age soft soldiers who wants to make friends and not war?" Andy scoffed. "After what has happened here today? They can't be trusted, kid, none of them."

"I'm not a kid."

"Don't you believe it," Andy commented. "And don't you let them tell you otherwise. The minute you start trusting those alien bastards the minute you will end up in your grave, like your brother," Andy advised.

"How do you know about my brother?"

"I'm attached to personnel in the downtime," Andy advised. "I know what happened to him. Doesn't that just go to show you that they can't be trusted?"

"I don't think I'd want to trust a dalek and I don't think I'd trust another Harlequin, but that doesn't mean that other species can't be trusted does it?"

"What you mean like Sycorax and Sontarans?" Andy asked Ethan.

"What about Time Lords?"

"You know Captain Blake that works out of Leeds?"

"No Sir."

"Well, he works out of Leeds now. Only able to administrative duties now. He used to be a bright young soldier attached to a brand new vessel. You heard of the Valiant?"

"Yes of course. Did he get taken down by the daleks? It was shot down wasn't it?"

"It was shot down, yes, but the daleks aren't the first aliens to take the Valiant. Captain Blake was on the Valiant right from the start. Worked on some of the build details with a Harold Saxon. Now, Captain Blake will tell you tales about Time Lords that will turn your blood cold, lad, don't you be fooled."

"What tales?"

"Oh, you'd not believe them. They reckon it didn't even happen or something. It's all a big cover up. Ask your friend Martha about it. Don't be fooled and don't be taken in. They are all out for something and they are all aliens. They should be eradicated," Andy told Ethan. "All of them. You hear me?"

"Um…" Ethan didn't know what to say but he was saved as the curtain opened and Martha came back in with Eddie.

"Eddie is going to do your scan for you and then get you settled round on the ward, Andy," Martha advised him. "Doctor Carter is going to review your scan and see what the best course of action will be."

"Thank you, Doctor Jones," Andy offered innocently. Private Coates looked at him curiously not knowing how he could be so filled with so much hate that seemed to have implicated the medic and still be like that to her face. He was wrong though, wasn't he? He had to be wrong.

"Right then, Ethan?" Martha linked her arm through his and led him out. "I am going to ask you a serious question and I want an honest answer from you."

"Yes Ma'am." Private Coates feared that Martha had overheard Andy and was going to demand to know what he was doing listening to him or forbid him from going to see the Doctor or something.

"I will give you the medical brief for the liaison team as you have been assigned to receive it, but there are a couple of things I want to know. Firstly, who was it that assigned you to collect the data?"

"Major Starkey gave the order directly, Ma'am."

"Okay, I expected as much. My second question is whether you are sure that you want to receive the brief and that you feel able to do it."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Allow me to finish first," Martha suggested.

"Sorry Ma'am."

"Now, I have heard your briefs and I know that both Captain Jack and the Doctor think of you highly. I also know that Colonel Mace has been impressed by the way you have handled yourself today and so I have no qualms about your ability to collate data, but this is not just tactical data. In order to give you the information I need to be able to tell you the medical details of the most seriously injured patients and you need to be able to relay that information to the liaison with a degree of sensitivity, but also without any emotional attachment. You need to be able to remain objective in order to give a serious report. Now, in my personal view you should not be taking this information as it will include the medical details of your friend Blue Rigsby and you will be expected to relay that information with an objective sensitivity. I don't think anyone should be asked to do that. Now, I am not going to refuse to give you the brief, but, you need to know how important it is that the information is given clearly so that the liaisons know what the next of kin are dealing with."

"Will they be telling the next of kin?"

"No, we will do that, but, the liaisons need to know as they will be providing the support," Martha suggested. "Do you think you can do that, or, do you want me to update one of the liaisons directly as I would normally do?" Martha asked him seriously. "It will certainly not reflect on you badly if you do not want to do it, and, I will be honest and say that I don't think it is very appropriate and I don't think you should have been asked in the circumstances."

"What do you think I should do instead?"

"I would quite like you to go and keep the Doctor company and keep Jack in line," Martha offered. "I did have Gerald doing that but he is in surgery so not available. It is going to be at least another hour before we can get the Doctor into theatre so he needs to be entertained as he's going to be sulking about not having any tea and even with the drugs I know his leg remains incredibly painful," Martha advised.

"I think I would rather spend the time with the Doctor," Private Coates advised Martha and she nodded and then kissed him on the cheek making him blush. "Can I ask you a question, Doctor Jones?"

"Course."

"Andy said some stuff about aliens and about them all being eradicated?"

"Did he now?"

"He went on about daleks and sycorax and stuff. Said none of them could be trusted and that they should be killed on sight. When I questioned him and asked him what about Time Lords he said something about a UNIT operative called Captain Blake who used to work on the Valiant? Not when it was shot down by the daleks but before that. Said he'd tell a tale about Time Lords that would make your blood turn cold and that no one should be trusted. I think he was talking about the Doctor?"

"I'm fairly certain that Andy doesn't know what he was talking about. If he was talking about the Valiant he'd be relying on hearsay and the testimony of people who know very little about what happened even if they were there."

"He said that you were there."

"I was," Martha confirmed.

"And you trust the Doctor, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," Martha confirmed. "I trust him entirely. He will always try and do the right thing. He might not always be considerate enough to know what the right thing is but that is nothing to do with being a Time Lord it is to do with being a bloke who is a little soft in the head at times," Martha commented and then chuckled at Private Coates's expression. "The Doctor is a good man and I do trust him."

"But what Andy said about Time Lords?"

"They are a species just like humans are. There are good guys and like with humans there are also people with motives that are not altogether altruistic. That does not mean that you write the whole race off does it?" Martha asked. "Imagine if an alien visitor came down to Earth and happened to land in the high security psychiatric wing of HMP Broadbent. Could you imagine the impression that individual would get of the human race in there where all of the sickest and most disturbed men in the country are secured? Or, what about if they landed in another secure facility? What kind of impression would they form of the human race by that kind of contact?" Martha asked him. "I don't think it would be very good, would it?"

"No Ma'am."

"But, it would not be a fair reflection on our whole species would it?"

"No."

"The same applies to Time Lords. The difference being that the insane Time Lord that caused issues is dead and the only Time Lord left is the Doctor, and, he is a good man. He has saved our planet so many times. I was on the Valiant, but not all the time. I was there at the beginning and at the end, in between I had to walk the Earth and I told a story about a man who saved people and then moved on. Those stories were true and they inspired the whole planet."

"About the Doctor?"

"Yes, about the Doctor. He's not perfect. He's made mistakes and I know he's caused people pain – not intentionally, he's a pain in the backside and he can be a bit blinkered but that is all part of his charm. He's certainly not a threat that needs to be eradicated," Martha commented.

"You don't think Andy will try to cause any trouble do you?"

"No, he's all mouth." Martha sighed. "I'll keep an eye on him just in case. He'll end up getting disciplined if he's not careful, but, Ethan, please don't mention the Valiant to the Doctor or to Captain Jack. They both had a very hard time and they don't need to be reminded of it."

"Sorry, if I reminded you of it, Doctor Jones."

"Ah, that is okay, thank you for asking about it. You can make your own mind up about the Doctor, you're smart enough, but it is good to ask."

"I like him," Private Coates advised.

"Good, he likes you too," Martha acknowledged. "That is why he keeps on giving you stuff to do. He's testing you. Don't let him go too far though. Go on through and see him and I'll go and find a liaison to do the brief."

"Okay," Private Coates stated. "Doctor Jones?"

"Yes?"

"You know about Blue?" Private Coates asked. "Is he going to be okay?"

"No, love, he's not. I'm sorry," Martha advised him honestly. "It is unlikely that he wakes up. If he does? He's got a serious brain injury. It is serious enough that he won't be Blue anymore. I'm sorry, love."

"Thanks for being honest."

"His girlfriend and his mother will be here before long. Once they have had some time with him, I will check with them and make sure they don't mind, and then I will take you in to see him if you want me to."

"Okay, thank you."

"Go and make sure the Doctor doesn't find himself any more trouble."

"His bone is poking out of his leg. How could be find trouble?"

"Oh, believe me," Martha chuckled. "He'll manage somehow."

Martha was quite annoyed that anyone would be as thoughtless and insensitive as to send Private Coates to get the medical information on the critically injured when it would include a friend that they had already established was upsetting him. It was at the very least thoughtless and ignorant, at worst it was cruel and destructive. Martha could not imagine there was any malice in the instruction but thoughtless orders were particularly dangerous. Especially when Ethan would try his best to follow them regardless of how difficult they would be.

"Where are the liaison officers basing themselves?" Martha asked Major Starkey as she came across her in the store room doubling as a centre of operations.

"The relative's room has been cleared and made available. They are going to be in there."

"Has it been cleared down there already?" Martha was surprised. That was right down by clinic three and the initial muster point. Colonel Mace had been near enough slumped beside the doorway to the relative's room.

"The room itself has been untouched," Major Starkey advised.

"But, what about the entry way into it? I don't see how we can be using it as a relative's room. If the entrance to it is not ready yet then it will be impractical," Martha commented. "We need to use one of the rooms down this end of the corridor. Maybe the staff rest room?"

"What about your staff?"

"They can use the relative's room. I don't mind them walking through a corridor with bullet holes in the wall, but I don't particularly want grieving relatives walking through where all the bullet holes are," Martha commented. "It is highly unlikely that any of my staff are going to have the opportunity to rest much in the foreseeable future," Martha looked towards the rest room.

"What about the other staff though?"

"They shouldn't be using the medical staff rest area," Martha worried. "I don't want military personnel using it. They have their own test areas and standby points."

"That is a bit off isn't it?" Major Starkey half laughed wondering if Martha thought the medics were better than anyone else to have their own private rest room.

"No, it is not. There may be instances where they need to discuss patients and non-medical staff should not be privy to that. The military staff are also like gannets and locust, they will use all the supplies in there and not replace them. I know what they're like they will use everything, they won't replace it, and they won't wash up after themselves. I do not want my staff to spend a vital fifteen minutes they may be able to grab between surgical operations having to hunt down teabags, milk, and wash up cups because a unit has raided it rather than walk out to their catering truck a 100 years that way where they can get tea in throw away cups and hotdogs. They are not going to deprive my staff the opportunity for a quick cup of tea if they get a chance. If they have already been using the room then I want it tidied and restocked and I want it made clear that it is a rest room for medical staff only."

"I am sure it is not going to be as bad as you think."

"Are you?" Martha asked. She went to the door and opened it. The first indication that it was being used by military staff members was the army issue boots that had been crossed over and plonked on the table. At least the owner of the boots had the decency to whip his feet down and to jump up to attention when the Medical Director and the current Base Commander came in. There were dirty mugs strewn across most of the surfaces. Some of the medics had personal cups and they had been used and left stranded and dirty either stacked awkwardly in the sink or on the bench. There were coffee spills on the floor and there was a splat where it looked like someone had thrown a teabag toward the bin and hit the wall behind it instead. If Martha was a betting woman she would have staked a month's wage that the teabag itself was not in the bin but on the floor behind it. There was an empty bottle of milk in the fridge and no one had sourced a replacement. The urn was hissing as it had been allowed to run so it was almost dry and there was only enough coffee to make one or two cups when a new jar had been brought in to last the week that morning.

"When a life-saving surgery is completed on one of the young soldiers who has now been in surgery for three hours, the staff performing the surgery will have at most thirty minutes before they have to return to surgery on someone else. In that time they will have to shower, change, have something to eat, and to drink, and prepare themselves for another potentially complicated surgery," Martha advised Major Starkey. "Do you think it appropriate in that limited time that they have to fight through this kind of filth in order to get a drink? This is the medical rest room. I am fairly sure that the military rest rooms are manned because they would otherwise simply collapse. This is not a manned mess or rest room. No one comes in here to restock and clean up, so, I suggest that in the next few minutes orders are given to clean this room, ensure the correct resources are available, and that there is refreshment ready for my staff who are likely to be working right through the night and into tomorrow," Martha instructed.

"I will get to it, Ma'am," the solder in there offered feeling suitably ashamed.

"Thank you, Ivan," Martha nodded. "You will find all the supplies in the store room that they are currently using as centre of operations."

"And, you ultimately want this room to become the relatives' room?" Major Starkey checked with Martha.

"When people start to arrive, yes. We don't want them to be walking through a bullet strewn hall in order to get to the relatives room," Martha commented. "Normally it is in the ideal place as it is not far from the HDU or the area of rest in the morgue, but, let's get it where there is not bullet holes in the door frame?" Martha suggested. She walked with Major Starkey down toward the clinic 3 area. There was no longer a hold as the Harlequin was confirmed dead and the corridor floor was cleaned now with new mop heads being brought in. "You need to make sure the cleaners also look upward," Martha commented as an area where the floor was sparkling and the walls had been wiped down had a splatter or blood right across the ceiling tiles.

"Those tiles will have to be taken down or painted over. They won't be cleaned off, we will probably get them taken down," Major Starkey advised. "They're up there though, no one will notice."

"They will notice," Martha commented. "And, if you leave them and bring people through it is like you want all our grieving relatives to spend their time wondering if the blood on the ceiling up there is the blood of their loved one."

"It's on the ceiling."

"I'm not sure how aware of people you are, Major. If you ever talk to anyone who is struggling with their emotions and trying to hold it together a natural instinct and action is to look upward. It's instinctive. Try it. Watch the people who will receive bad news today. I would say 9 out of 120 of them will try to contain themselves initially and in doing so they will look upward. It is as if they can literally try to raise their spirits or their defences. I am sure you do it and I know that I do it. We don't want them to be looking up when there is blood splatter across the ceiling," AMrtha advised. "They need to be brought in through the rear and into the staff room. We will change the rooms round and get the liaisons to move in there. It is probably a bit bigger anyway and we could have a lot of relatives in."

"I can see to that, Doctor Jones," Major Starkey offered. "You don't need to do it personally."

"I do need to provide the brief to the liaisons."

"Oh, has Private Coates not met up with you? I sent him to get the relative information for the brief."

"He did catch up with me, but I didn't give him the brief. I did not feel that it was appropriate."

"Why? He has been granted classification and security clearance by Colonel Mace, and he's been tasked to gather information and has done a good job."

"Yes he has, a very good job, but that was strategic information and not medical information. He is close friends with one of the people who has been critically injured. He is not in a position where he can be fairly asked to give that kind of information. You're asking me to report to him that his friend is unlikely to make it through the next 12 hours and in all honesty it would be better if he didn't, because if he does then he has a serious brain injury so that if he does survive he is unlikely to wake up, and if he ever did wake he certainly isn't going to be the same person again."

"Can you definitely say that though? Don't people with head injuries somehow surprise everyone?"

"Yes, they do, some people can make remarkable recoveries. Unexplained recoveries, but Blue isn't. He's got part of his brain actually missing. His brain has physical damage to it and tissues have been lost. He's lost his eyes so he is going to be blind and he only has 10% of his facial tissues left. His sinus cavities have been caved in. His skull is smashed and there are fragments of bone embedded in the brain tissue. That is the kind of information I would be giving Ethan about his bunk mate and then we would be expecting him to go and report that information succinctly and professionally."

"I am sure that he would be able to."

"He probably would, but it is an unnecessary strain to put on him. When the liaisons are trained in how to deal with this kind of thing and he is not. I have tasked him to assist the Doctor and I will provide the brief directly to the liaison team. Is Father Henry on site yet?"

"He is on route. I don't know if he has arrived yet. I am getting him escorted over in case he gets lost," Major Starkey commented. Martha smiled somewhat at that. Father Henry was known to lose his way on the base when he was over in the barracks doing pastoral care but he tended to find his way to medical without issue. Still it was better to be safe than sorry in the circumstances. "We are struggling to get hold of a Rabbi because it is Saturday."

"Try speaking to some of the other Jewish staff. They may be able to give some contacts and may be willing to stand vigil for Captain Harman until there is something more suitable," Martha instructed.

"I think everything is in hand."

"You need to make sure that it is all in hand. If you get any of the final arrangements wrong it can have an even more devastating effect," Martha warned the Major who she expected had only ever had to dismantle tank for spares than have to deal with the dead, which reminded Martha. She should get on to the Royal Hope and the transplant coordinator. If any of their critical patients passed and had indicated for donation then they would have to get them taken over there as the facilities did not exist for organs to be removed for transplant. It was something that was included in the hospital records for all recruits and Martha only knew of a couple who had opted out for personal reasons. One who was convinced that no one would make sure you were actually dead before harvesting organs and one because he believed it desecrated his body. Everyone else she knew of had confirmed that they wanted any viable organs to be used.

"I don't know how Mace does all of this normally," Major Starkey admitted.

"Colonel Mace has a lot of experience and he also has good teams around him. You have to use the people around you. They all have their jobs to do and they are all experts in their jobs. With the Liaisons and the like we will get Father Henry to take the lead once he is here and on site. He has been providing pastoral care at UNIT since the 70's. He has seen UNIT through some very difficult times. He will know how to manage it all, all you need to do is ensure that there are sensitivities and that things are available when they need resources. What you can't do is assume that because we have now stood down that it means the job is over. It is not. I know in and incident you would be involved in emergency repairs, tactical maintenance, method of entry stuff and things like that. I bet you have that so streamlined it is unreal, but much of that finishes when the incident is stood down. For us, in medical, a lot of it is only starting and we're still going to be dealing with some of the effects of this in six months, maybe more. There are going to be people who need life-long medical assistance and there are obviously people who have been killed. For us we will probably be working flat out straight through the night. I will have to start a rota for people to get some rest. I can't keep everyone here all night because I need people to be able to come in the morning, but I can't send everyone home because we've still got too much to do. Just because the incident is finished it does not mean the work is done and as base commander you need to be very aware of that."

"What can we do? Can we get additional medics in?" Major Starkey asked.

"If it becomes necessary then I can get a couple of locums in but that will be as a last resort," Martha offered. "But, let's sort the liaisons out first." Martha went down to the relatives' room where the liaison officers were gathering. They were all dressed in their formal UNIT uniform and made sure they were presentable and professional.

"Ma'am," they stood and saluted when Martha and Major Starkey went into the room.

"As you were," Major Starkey dismissed them.

"Ma'am, permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"We cannot run from here. This is impossible. There is a bullet hole in the door. I know one of our tasks is to try to give a sense of what happened, but that is a bit extreme."

"You're being relocated to the medical staff room. It is being restocked and cleaned at the moment. I will need you do some signage to direct the staff up here and the relatives down there. I will try to make sure all the staff know, but my staff don't carry radios as a rule so they will not get an all outstations broadcast. They can come down here though and the relative can use their area. It is slightly bigger too," Martha confirmed that it was already in hand. It also confirmed to Major Starkey that even if she thought it was a bit petty that it was right and there was a need to move. Her tanks never complained where they were located while they were either fixed up or decommissioned.

"Are you going to stay for the brief?" Martha asked Major Starkey.

"Do you think I should?"

"It may be useful, but, the information you will be given is in medical confidence and is for briefing purposes only and if a relative manages to collar you as base commander. Any direct information about a patient's condition will only be given by medical staff, but liaisons and those who are likely to get collared need a broad view of the injuries so they are aware of what the relatives are facing," Martha explained. "We have one patient with confirmed spinal cord injuries, it would be devastating for someone to make a comment about how they will be back on their feet soon enough or something in that vein. No matter how well intended it is you need to be aware."

"Understood," Major Starkey nodded. She wished she could go back to her tanks. They were much less complicated.


	40. Chapter 40

Martha gave her brief once Father Henry made his way to the hospital wing. He blustered a bit and fumbled his paperwork but his liaisons fondly helped him out and made him a cup of tea. Once he got organised their chaplain was immediately on the case. He had contacts for an emergency Rabbi who could come in and ensure a prayer was said for Captain Harman. He was provided with a list of the dead and also a list of the wounded, those that were critical, those who had potential life changing non-lethal injuries, and those who were injured but able to make a full recovery. He was a regular figure to be seen around the hospital when there were patients as daily visits from the Chaplaincy team were a UNIT requirement. Not always for religious purpose but he was not averse to sitting down and having a game of chess, or poker, with the inpatients to assist them in passing the time. He had his religious function but he was also a friend to many whether they were religious or not.

Martha was just leaving after her brief when Father Henry caught up with her. He put his hand on her arm and led her away from Major Starkey for a moment to have what was clearly going to be a private conversation. Major Starkey took the hint and moved off down the corridor back toward the centre of operations and the East Wing.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Father?" Martha asked him.

"How are you holding up, Martha?" Father Henry asked her. He was one of the few who would call her Martha despite any of the action going on.

"Busy at the moment."

"Yes, quite, but that is not what I asked. It is clear the impact on the medical team is unfathomable with the number injured and the tragic news that three of your own team are amongst those killed today. What can we do to assist you, Martha?" Father Henry asked her. "How are you fairing?"

"I've work to do, Father," Martha ignored the question. If she gave it any thought at all she would simply crack and then where would they be? "Forgive me, Father, I must get on." Martha hurried away from him.

"That well." Father Henry acknowledged grimly on a tired breath. He'd been there far too long at UNIT, had seen far too many crises and deaths over the years. They had suffered considerable losses in recent months in very bloody battles with the Sontarans, the daleks, and now they had been attacked again. He had not been on base either time, just like now. He was off base at the time but providing pastoral care to a base of youngsters devastated by losses was not going to be easy. Many rebuked him because they believed the only solace he could provide them came in the form of a sermon, as they did not fully understand his role. He knew that faith did not necessarily lie with the man upstairs for them as it did for him. He drew his strength from God, but he knew fewer did these days than ever before. As he watched Martha hurry away from him back toward the HDU and the wards that were being filled from the East Wing, as they tried to get some semblance of order back into proceedings, Father Henry asked the Lord for that strength in extra measure to cover and protect the men and women and to provide them the strength and courage to succeed and the wisdom and humility to allow themselves to grieve.

Father Henry silently blessed the Medical Director as he watched her take a breath to steel herself. She glanced back up the corridor and saw him standing there. He raised his hand in acknowledgement, hoping that if she did not come to him when she needed to, that she had someone else she could go to.

Martha nodded toward the pastor and then she went into the HDU. It was a hive of activity now. There were specific HDU trained nurses and gradually they were being relieved from trauma duties in order to take over the ongoing cave and monitoring of the critically injured. They had six beds in the HDU but it was usually rare to have any of them filled for long. There were four members of UNIT in that room.

Martha went from bed to bed. She checked their electronic notes. The HDU monitoring systems linked in digitally so they could record and review them from other computers around the area. It was a handy system, but Martha did not like to rely on it. Cole was in the first bed on the left of the ward. He had a cooling mattress on the bed and had a fan blowing on him. A nurse had a fine mister in order to spray cooling water onto the sheet that covered him. The fever burned and flushed his cheeks with ruby blotches. There was a bluish tinge around his lips despite him receiving full oxygen on full ventilation. He had several drips running with different antibiotics and drugs to keep him in a comatose state. They had to allow his body to try to fight the infections that were saying.

"Doctor Jones," Eddie came over. She was one of the HDU nurses in normal circumstances. Martha had been going to see if she could get her out to see the show still but there simply was no way was there? "We've taken his bloods. Nial Quin has taken them into the pathology lab to process as a priority."

"Has the lab been opened back up?"

"No, not yet, but he needs his bloods doing," Eddie commented. "His liver function is starting to drop off," Eddie commented. She pulled his eyelids down to reveal the yellowing of jaundice started to impact. "He's got a septic rash now too." She revealed the blotches of dark purple that were mottling his trunk.

"How are his extremities?" Martha asked. They pulled the bed sheet back and had a look at his toes first. It looked like he'd been getting frost bite and the tips of his toes were beginning to go a dark purple. They were certainly on their way to blackening. "Damn, they're freezing," Martha commented. "Get him in fleeces and let's try to get the circulation going again or we're going to be amputating before long."

"Toes and fingers," Eddie confirmed grimly as she examined his hands.

"All we can do is support him, give him the antibiotics and a fighting chance, and hope he can pull through. He has no underlying medical conditions to complicate matters but I don't like the look of this at all," Martha commented.

"They are scheduling another clear of his abdominal cavity in the next couple of hours," Eddie advised. "I guess it depends on what that shows."

"Has he produced any urine?"

"No, nothing. He has a Foley catheter in and we have checked it twice. It looks like his kidneys have packed up too."

"Get one of the portable dialysis units in and get that going for him. Let's see if we can assist him in that way too."

"Doctor Scott has taken over the thoracic and abdominal cases," Eddie advised Martha. She nodded. Luke Wilson would have been the one to do that normally. It wasn't Norman Scott's primary area of expertise but he was the next best available to him and he had kept Cole alive this long. He would also have been involved in the surgery on Jamie.

"I will get onto the Hope and see if there is anyone in their locum staff who can come in and assist in that field," Martha offered. "Though, I think his belly is possibly the least of his worries at the moment. What is his body temperature?"

"I checked 10 minutes ago and it was 41.9 degrees."

"Damn that is high."

"It's…" Eddie got a thermometer probe and put it in his ear until it bleeped. "41.8 degrees."

"It's not coming down."

"No, not yet."

"He's too sick to transport."

"Where would you want to take him?"

"Portsmouth?" Martha commented thoughtfully. "Their UNIT facility has got the hyperbaric chamber. We could put him in there and give him high pressure oxygen therapy for a while, but he'd not make the trip even if we got the chopped in. He needs to stabilise a bit then maybe it is a possibility. What is being produced by his abdomen?" Martha checked the pump that was poking out of the sealed foam dressing that had been stapled into the open wound of his abdomen. The actual foam was stapled in like it was a natural extension of his skin so that it could be removed and they could easily go in and wash his abdomen out in surgery without having to cut and stitch him each time. "Though?" She thought for a moment. "Don't let him die."

Martha hurried out of the HDU leaving Eddie feeling a bit bewildered. Martha went into the Doctor and Colonel Mace's room. While for their interests she hoped they were both nicely calm and asleep, in Cole's interests she hoped they were both awake because she had a feeling that there was quite possibly a barometric chamber a lot closer to them than Portsmouth.

"Doctor Jones?" Private Coates stood when she went into the room as if he was guilty for sitting down by the Doctor's bed although that was exactly what she wanted to do. Especially since the Doctor was awake and seemed to have been blanketed in computer read outs that they were discussing. Colonel Mace also had some computer readouts and Captain Price was with him. It seemed they were both up to something which worried Martha slightly. She'd not wanted them to ally themselves so early in their recoveries.

"As you were Private, you don't need to be formal with me in here," Martha assured him.

"Yes Ma'am," Private Coates responded formally and the Doctor smiled. He was quite fond of the young man who was showing himself to be quite intelligent and capable. He definitely had an open and an inquiring mind and that was what was needed, especially in the face of close minded officers, though the Doctor was unaware that the Private had been warned away from all alien species including Time Lords. "What are you all up to?" Martha asked curiously, but she directed the question at the Time Lord who was surely behind the reams of paper they were all looking at.

"It is the reports from Peru," the Doctor offered.

"We're attempting to identify where the space craft may have originated from," Private Coates announced, but then he sighed. "How is Blue?" he checked with the medic.

"There has been no change," Martha offered. "There is unlikely to be any change, Ethan. Certainly not any positive changes," she reminded him not wanting him to have false hope for his friend making some kind of impossible recovery.

"I know," he accepted and picked up some of the papers again. Martha put her hand on his shoulder, she realised it was not going to be fair to talk to the Doctor as she intended when Ethan was in the room.

"Would you mind doing me a huge favour?" Martha asked him gently. He looked at her inquisitively. "Could you go and make sure that Wilfred and Sarah Jane have had something to eat and that the sandwich packs have arrived."

"Okay."

"Thank you, make sure you have something to eat as well, I don't want anyone flaking out."

"No ma'am," Private Coates agreed. He left the room.

"Is there really nothing that can be done for his friend?" the Doctor asked quietly.

"No, not for Blue. He has massive penetrative injuries to his brain. If he survives he is unlikely to wake. If he wakes the damage is so severe that he is not going to be Blue anymore."

"And it is physical brain trauma?" the Doctor checked.

"Yes, it is brutal, part of his brain I actually unaccounted for and he's lost both of his eyes and 80% of his facial tissues."

"Literally?" the Doctor gulped visibly as he understood what Martha was saying even if Colonel Mace and Captain Price figured that it was bad but didn't have the knowledge to actually imagine the result as the Doctor did.

"Yes," Martha confirmed. "Full thickness."

"Does Ethan know that?"

"He knows he has received an irreversible brain injury and that he will be blind, but I cannot divulge his full medical condition to him without the permission of his next of kin."

"Yet, you'll tell me?" the Doctor asked.

"Not all of it, and, only in the vague hopes that you're going to announce that you have a wonder pull in the TARDIS that will fix it all for him?" Martha offered and smiled sadly. "And that if you could do that it would not breach every rule and taboo you have," Martha added. "Which of course I know is totally unfair, Doctor. I know that, but his face is gone and his eyes have gone and part of his temporal lobe is gone and he's just not dying, and it is my duty to pump him full of drugs and keep him alive and try to save him and I can't help wondering what is lfet to save. His first child is due in seven weeks and…" Martha realised what she was saying and she stopped. "Ah, bugger, sorry, I didn't intend this," she snatched and swiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry. That is totally unfair. Let's just rewind."

"Martha?" the Doctor took her hand.

"I'm sorry." She forced herself a tired and almost hysterical laugh and then took a deep controlling breath. She couldn't lose it. "That really wasn't what I came in here for."

"You don't need to apologise," the Doctor commented. "I am sorry that young man has been hurt so badly. Unfortunately, if there is significant penetrative trauma to the brain tissues there is nothing that can be done. It is a human vulnerability that will last the centuries. Care standards and quality life protocols will eventually change, but there is nothing that can be done for him throughout the ages. I am sorry. I don't know if that makes it better or worse, but it's not an injury that can be fixed," the Doctor advised.

"Thank you," Martha commented and accepted.

"You will find that nature takes its course," the Doctor offered. "If he is meant to survive this then he will, if not, then despite your interventions he will fade."

"I swore to do no harm, Doctor, yet sometimes it feels like doing harm while trying to save a life." Martha admitted a crisis in her confidence that the Doctor was surprised to hear. Not because he was surprised Martha had it, when faced with a patient with such devastating injuries it was natural he supposed. He was surprised that she was choosing to have the conversation with him, though maybe suggesting that the bubbling over of her stresses was a choice was a bit unrealistic. It was washing off her like the tide, like an undercurrent that caught the feet and the crashing wave that knocked the most careful paddler over and somersaulted them up the beach only to have the undertow sweep the sand and grit from around them preventing their purchase to rise again before the next wave crashed into them. She'd been knocked down by the first wave and was trying to get back up to her feet again, but the world was being sucked out to sea beneath her.

"Martha." The Doctor offered her a hand against the current. "You are a brilliant and compassionate medic. I know you will do all you can for everyone in your care and so does everyone else." He held her had tightly. "Martha?" He made sure she was actually listening to him.

"Yes?"

"When I broke my leg in the TARDIS I was on my own and I've never been quite as scared."

"I'm sorry, I should not be bothering you at the moment."

"You're not bothering me," the Doctor hoped Martha wasn't getting the wrong intention. "Don't be insane."

"Insane?"

"Yes, insane." He squeezed her hand and smiled slightly trying to encourage her. "Just listen to me for a moment. I may not have had anybody with me, but I was in my TARDIS. She is linked with me. She knew what I had done and she kept me from passing out. She could have taken me anywhere in time and space for treatment. She could have taken me to a hospital in the future where Jack got the drugs from. She could have taken me to New Earth, she could have taken me to the hospital satellite that caters for all kinds of species and would deal with a broken leg quite easily. She didn't. She brought me here and to you because it is not always just about the medical facilities and the drugs, it is about the people and the first thing was not that I needed drugs or that I needed specific treatment. That was not what came to my mind. After the initial 'oh my God my leg is hanging off', my next thought was 'oh my God I need Martha'," the Doctor admitted to her sincerely.

"I know we have not always seen eye to eye, Doctor Jones, but I trust you," the Doctor insisted. "I trust you to knock me out and put metal in my leg when the last time a medic knocked me out? Well, let's just say it involved a change of face. I could have gone anywhere in time and space, but I came here. Not because UNIT have the best drugs or the best facilities, but because UNIT has you. The rest is just secondary."

"Does that mean you could get better treatment if you went somewhere else?" Martha asked the Doctor missing the point he was making. "Would they do something different on the hospital satellite you talked about?"

"Not especially. They would use laser pins to fix rather than titanium, but it would make no difference in terms of recovery. In species with less capable immune systems laser pins carry no infection risk and leave no scarring. For me it makes no significant difference. Certainly not in the way the treatment is given. At the satellite even if I had turned up on my own like I did here they would do the surgery and then as soon as I was awake I would be kicked out. They would be kicking me back into the TARDIS regardless of if I could stand or even get off the bed to fend for myself. I'd be expected to pay for a nurse I did not know to come and tend to me and take a stranger into the TARDIS or to move into accommodation outside. If I have to be anywhere then I want to be here, because, well, it is like James. He will look after my leg but he doesn't give much thought to the rest of me. The hospital satellite is run by medics like James, and, much of the bedside care is delivered by robotic staff," the Doctor advised. "I didn't want to be on my own. I wanted to come here, and, if the TARDIS disagreed then she would have sent me somewhere else. So, not only did I want you to care for me, but the TARDIS agreed it was best. If it was not for you then I believe I would have regenerated by now, you and Jack, please. Don't doubt the significance of your presence and the faith that people have in you, even when things don't quite work out the way we hoped."

"Faith isn't going to save their lives."

"Don't be so sure, Martha," the Doctor commented. "It is well documented that human patients that believe in their treatment have a better recovery rate than those that don't. If their treatment is delivered by a medic they dislike they are less likely to trust it, and it is less likely to be successful. You walk into a room and people feel a little bit better just because you're there and they know you're going to look after them. I know that doesn't make it any easier for you, Martha, but that faith is not a blind faith. It is a faith based on their observations and because you're good, more than good, you're brilliant Martha, and, if a patient can't be saved it doesn't mean you are failing. It means they could not be saved," the Doctor tried to assure her.

"Thank you, Doctor," Martha accepted his words of encouragement. They didn't change that it felt like she was failing the people in her care. She didn't think he expected it to really either.

"I didn't come here to discuss Blue with you, but, I did want to discuss a different patient and while I know that using any medications you have on the contemporary soldiers might be difficult, I was wondering if there was any way you could help with the treatment of one of the most critical patients we have?"

"I am not sure what I can do, Martha. I'm kind of a bit stuck myself."

"I have a patient who has had a significant abdominal trauma that has caused massive lacerations to his colon, duodenum, and his ileum. He has had surgery to introduce a jejunum stoma and to bypass 90% of his digestive tract. That surgery appears to have been successful. The bleeding has been halted and repairs have been made to some of the bowel. The contents of his digestive tract were spilled throughout the abdominal cavity and he is now in the grips of a very aggressive bacterial sepsis. He is not responding to the antibiotics we are giving him."

"All the bacteria from his gut will have to entered his blood stream," the Doctor concluded.

"Yes, he's in renal failure and he's also showing signs of liver failure too. His circulation is shutting down and he's showing the start of gangrene in his toes. I have got him going onto dialysis to try to filter his blood and clear some of the toxins from his blood, but we are close to losing him. He is very sick and I think one of the only chances that he has is to get him into a pressure chamber. If we could put him under pressure and flood his system with oxygen that could create a toxic environment for the bacteria and give him a chance. The nearest one that he are licensed to use is in Portsmouth and even if we had a full air evacuation I don't think he would survive the trip. I know you have said that you have treated people with oxygen deprivation before, and I know the TARDIS is damaged and powered down…?"

"The hyperbaric chamber in the TARDIS is portable and has an independent power supply. You can take it out of the TARDIS and it will run for up to a week on full battery power. If you only use a half battery power it will run for 2 weeks. It's not a walk in chamber like you'd be used to. It is more like a big Perspex tube, but you would be able to tend to him while he is in it, just through pressure sealed windows, a bit like you'd tend to a baby in an incubator," the Doctor offered.

"Can we use it?" Martha asked him. "It could save a man's life."

"Yes of course you can." The Doctor had no qualms in them using equipment like that from the TARDIS. "And, you said he is going to lose his toes?"

"If we can't halt the infection."

"So, he's not already going to lose them?"

"No."

"Okay, good, there is a drug in the TARDIS. It is an advanced antibiotic but it also contains a drug that will support the circulation and boost the oxygen in the blood. If he does not already have gangrene then he can have that. If he does already have gangrene then he can't because giving him it could cause the toxins to spread rapidly. There is a version of the same antibiotic but it won't impact on the circulation. If there is any doubt as to whether the gangrene has progressed then you must use the less complex drug. Even that one will give him a much better change than the antibiotics you have available to you," the Doctor offered.

"And, using them is not going to be a problem?"

"This is UNIT. It's not a local hospital. I can't allow you to keep them in stock or anything, but in these circumstances and in order to treat someone who has been wounded by a creature who should not be here, then using the drugs that should not really be here will not cause too much of an issue," the Doctor advised. "Do you want me to review the records of the other patients to see if I have anything else I can help with people?" the Doctor asked Martha.

"Would you?" Martha felt an inordinate amount of relief. Even if he came back and said he couldn't do anything? She supposed that all the things he said about her she felt about him. If the Doctor was involved it was better. "I am concerned about a guy called Richard. He has crush injuries to his chest and is having difficulties with his breathing."

"I will have a look. I've got a pretty effective oxygen enhancing compound that will enable the blood to pick up more oxygen than normal which might help him. It's something that is actually taken if going into an environment with less than 15% atmospheric oxygen but more than 5%. It improves the oxygen uptake quite significantly. You can give that to your septic guy as well."

"I didn't think you were a doctor, Doctor?" Colonel Mace commented from his bed though it was more a question than a statement.

"I'm not, but I've picked up a few things in my time. Some things I can deal with or offer assistance with, but I'd not profess to be a medic, but, I do have a well-stocked sickbay."

"Yet Jack had to go off world to get you some suitable medications?" Colonel Mace was confused.

"He'd never expect to need them himself," Martha offered. "He can probably treat a 100 different species quite successfully, but not his own."

"Not much call really for a Time Lord medic these days," the Doctor commented. He wasn't quite sure how the conversation had actually turned round so it seemed he was ineffective or ill equipped when he was trying to offer assistance.

"And, it would never occur to you to be ready to help yourself, just everyone else," she offered with a degree of understanding, even if he wasn't sure if she was complimenting or insulting him. She didn't look like she was sure either.

"I have you for that," the Doctor advised.

"Yes you do," Martha agreed.

"Is Captain Jack busy?" the Doctor asked.

"I am not sure what he is doing. I think he was in the centre of operations and Major Starkey headed there so they could be working on something."

"If I review the medical charts then I will need Jack, or Mickey, either of them or both of them, to go over to the TARDIS and find what is needed."

"Can I interrupt for a moment?" Colonel Mace asked.

"Certainly."

"I have two concerns."

"Only two?"

"Surrounding your viewing of the medical records."

"I am aware for the need of sensitivity and discretion."

"Actually that is not one of them. I believe you will behave properly in this regard at least," the Colonel announced and Martha chuckled slightly. "My first concern regards the fact that Jack brought the drugs back early. Now, I hope it is not significant, but, suppose the patient you intend to pressurise will die without the use of your hyperbaric chamber?"

"I believe that is likely, Sir," Martha offered.

"Then, while we discussed the Doctor not making much of an impact by receiving the drugs earlier than if he is now able to review the records and saves someone who would otherwise be dead then if that not a significant change in the time lines? A man may live who would otherwise die," Colonel Mace advised. "I don't profess to be an expert in temporal dynamics, but one thing change like that can be hugely dangerous, couldn't it?" the Colonel asked.

"Yes, it could, and in general terms you would be right to be concerned. If we travelled back in time from this point and deliberately saved the life of someone who died in our time line then the repercussions could be highly dangerous and could result in the near end of the planets, in face once they almost did," the Doctor commented. "However, we are in a new time line now. The only temporal risk is to the two Jacks. What happens in the other time is now lost because of Jack's actions. He is the only anomaly. What we do in this time line now is independent of the others as long as Jack doesn't directly affect anything else. We are not changing the past we're changing the future and that is permitted," the Doctor tried to explain. "It's complicated but a new time line was created when Jack gave me the drugs early that over wrote the one he had lived. He used to be a Time Agent so he knows how to avoid any other repercussions. We can safely treat the patients without causing a temporal rift or a paradox," the Doctor advised.

"Thank goodness for that. I did not want to have to order you not to try to save any of my men."

"I would not put you in that position. I am the Time Lord. Temporal safeties are my responsibility. If it was a risk I would know and not do it, but it is not. The only risks are associated with me and Jack being contaminated by the cross over. What I do and what the contemporary Jack does is not an issue. Once the contemporary Jack teleports out and the future Jack becomes dominant there will be no issue at all. I don't fully condone what he did, but I am eternally grateful and he has got away with it," the Doctor advised.

"If you knew Jack was going to get the drugs early would you have taken them?" Captain Price asked him curiously.

"I'd have forbidden him from making that cross of his own timeline, but since I was unable to think let along contemplate temporal mechanics at the time I had no real say in the matter, though he would know I'd not be keen on him doing it which is likely why he did not tell me. It is not an issue. The risk has not proven unworthy and now this time line is established I can make use of the time the drugs have given me," the Doctor advised the Colonel. "And I cannot say how grateful I am to have the drugs available to me now."

"I have no doubt that you are," the Colonel accepted. "Which, in fact brings me to my next concern."

"And what is that?" the Doctor asked.

"Are you well enough to be getting involved in the treatment of others?"

"If I was going to do anything other than just sit here and review the medical records then yes, I'd think that a concern. I'm just going to be sitting here," the Doctor advised. "if I am totally honest with you, Alan, which I believe in the circumstances I should be, I am grateful for the distraction and an opportunity to help. It will provide me something to think about other than how painful my leg is."

"Even now?" Martha asked him concerned that he might remain in that much pain. "With the new drugs?"

"It remains quite exquisite and determined to ensure that at no point do I fail to recall that I currently have bone poking out of my shin, though I am grateful for the dressings so I cannot see that. I now for the first time understand and appreciate how the pain experienced in case of an injury can increase exponentially with the sight and realisation if said injury. I am sure if I could actually see the injury it would hurt even ore and then I would be unable to view the medical records of your other patients. As it stands I cannot see it and the records will be a welcome distraction or I may not remain composed for the time required to wait for surgery. For the first time and despite my quite natural reservations, I am keener for the surgery to take place than afraid of it happening," the Doctor advised Martha quite honestly. Martha put her hand on his shoulder. "I am however fine," he assured her and she just shook her head.

"I will get you a tablet."

"More drugs?"

"No, an electronic tablet. All the medical records get updated into a live feed so you will be able to review them in their most up to date form," Martha advised. "In fact take this one and I will pick up a spare." She gave him her tablet as it was already logged in. It was a fairly new system and it worked well, but when there were as many patients it would take a long time to boot up. She wanted to get what she could for Cole as soon as possible. "I'll go and find Jack and Mickey," Martha offered. "If you get stuck on how to navigate the system then I'm sure Captain Price will be able to show you," Martha offered, but she received a look of dismay and perhaps a little disgust that she thought he might have trouble with a 21st Century computer system.

Martha went out to find Jack and Mickey. They were both up just past surgical theatre three and were utilising Anita to find out what they needed to get the recovery room back in use for Martha. It was a temporary area for intense monitoring of patients as they came round and recovered from surgical procedures. It was not the most important of the rooms to get back, the same attention could be provided in other areas, it was usually utilised to protect other patients due to the frequency of nausea and sickness as patients came round from a general anaesthetic. It was not nice to be surrounded by half asleep patients mumbling nonsense between throwing up.

"Jack? Mick?" Martha called them both over.

"Have you eaten yet?" Jack asked Martha.

"No, not yet, I need you both to do something for me. The Doctor is reviewing the medical records of the most seriously injured to see if he has anything in the TARDIS to assist?"

"Is that allowed?" Mickey checked. He'd had it drummed into him by the Doctor and by Rose about staying true to the time period.

"Within UNIT it should be okay. It's not as if these are normal circumstances, the injuries were caused by an alien. If an alien also assists in putting ti right then that is not a bad thing is it?" Jack offered trying to break down a year's worth of temporal physics courses into Mickey speak. "UNIT is like Torchwood in that so far as technologies and medical equipment is concerned it is isolated from normal use." Jack explained. Mickey drowned. "Put it this way, do you think we should stop using the rift modulator just because some of the technology is out of its time and not from Earth."

"No, course not, but the Doctor always said…"

"I think he probably just didn't want you playing with his toys," Jack teased Mickey.

"He's going to let us use his hyperbaric chamber for Cole. So, when he has told you the things he wants you to get can you both get over to the TARDIS and pick it all up please. You will be able to get someone to give you a lift over in a jeep."

"I will get Ethan to give us a lift. The Doctor has not had issue with him going into the TARDIS. He sent him for his screwdriver."

"Okay, good," Martha commented. They went back to the room where the Doctor and Colonel Mace were. Captain Price was at the Doctor's bedside and was helping him to navigate through the medical records. Martha sighed as she knew it was indicative of how much of his enormous brain power was being taken up by his injury, the drugs, and his general tiredness. It wasn't really fair to be asking him at all, was it? Yet, she had no choice and he could not object. She hoped he'd get some sense of satisfaction from being able to help and that might actually help him feel better.

"How are you doing?" Jack asked the Doctor.

"We've looked at Cole and at Richard."

"I'm not asking about them. I'm asking about you."

"I'm okay."

"Liar," Jack put his hand on his shoulder.

"What is the choice?" the Doctor asked. "I have to be okay. It is the only way."

"I'm sure it won't be long until you get your leg fixed, Boss, then it'll be better right?"

"Yes, much better, but could we talk about this rather than me?" he asked and winced slightly.

"Course, Boss. What do you need us to get?"

The Doctor made a list of things to get from the sickbay. Most of it was different medications but there was the portable hyperbaric chamber. There were other things but they would not be possible to be used safely without extensive training and he was not able to do the treatment himself. It would also have an effect that was too different to the contemporary results received. He could support them but he couldn't totally intervene.

"Thank you, Doctor," Martha accepted.

"It will help, but they are still very sick people," the Doctor warned slightly. Martha nodded her understanding, their survival was not guaranteed.

"Did you look a Blue's record?"

"Yes, I did," the Doctor confirmed. "You did not tell me that some of his files were photographic," the Doctor commented.

"I do not know how he is alive."

"Would he sustain himself if the medical support was removed?" the Doctor asked Martha.

"Not at present. His next of kin are on route and there is something we will discuss."

"There are not some difficult conversations to be had," the Doctor offered. He was glad that he would not be involved in that. "Though, UNIT have always had a good liaison team for dealing with that. It was something the Brigadier started. The Brigadier and a quite annoying Pastor I can't quite remember," the Doctor thought for a moment. "A young man, a total blithering idiot by all regards, got lost in his own quarters. Henry I think his name was. I was in training to be ordained when he joined. I wonder what happened to him."

"Father Henry," Martha chuckled.

"Yes, I suppose if he was ordained he would become Father Henry."

"I know he had been here a long time," Martha commented. "I didn't realise he had been here that long."

"He is still here?"

"Yes, he is heading our liaison and welfare processes at the moment," Martha confirmed. "Do you want me to get him to come and say hello? I take it you met him back then?"

"Met him, yes. Do I want him to come and say hello? Not particularly," the Doctor commented.

"Is that someone else you have annoyed beyond repair?" Colonel Mace asked the Doctor and chuckled slightly when the Doctor frowned at him.

"He is determined and stubborn in his singular belief in a singular all powerful God," the Doctor complained. "Despite all evidence to the contrary and the very nature of the universe around him."

"He's a vicar." Martha reminded the Doctor and laughed. "it is what he has dedicated his life to."

"I dedicated mine to science and exploration."

"And baiting young pastors?" Colonel Mace asked him.

"I think we're too different to ever be able to see eye to eye."

"That does not mean you have to be insulting and offensive," Colonel Mace advised the Doctor. The Doctor was going to respond but he looked over to the Colonel and the injured human had closed his eyes as if he was settling down. He didn't say anything and instead just grumbled slightly beneath his breath. Martha laughed and rubbed the Time Lord's shoulder as he must have felt a little like he was being picked on.

"He is close minded."

"Well, we'll not invite him down for tea just now," Martha assured the Doctor. The Time Lord sighed and tried to rest back against the bed but a wash of pain that rose like the tide within his leg showed on his features before he could lock it away. The new drugs had stabled the horses and shackled the cowboys but it was not the end of it. Martha saw the pain and realised that she had to remember why he was there. The Doctor rubbed the right side of his face avoiding the left. The bruising on the side of his face had come out fully now ahead of the time it would take in a human. The edges of discoloration along his jaw line were already beginning to turn to a sickly green colour. There was no point putting any more ice on it now as the ugly swelling would begin to recede.

"Is your face sore?" Martha asked him quietly as he deliberately didn't rub it.

"It was, but now it feels better with the new drugs as well."

"What about your head?"

"I've got a bit of a headache if I'm honest," the Doctor admitted.

"I need you to be honest with me, Doctor. It should not be a question but something we can take for granted."

"I know, I'm just worn out and tired. It's difficult to keep it all in."

"You shouldn't have been trying," Martha commented and caressed his head. "Your leg is still hurting you a lot isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Then let's just relax for a while. I'm sorry that I've not been very fair asking you about things."

"It was good to be able to help," the Doctor offered. "Can I really not have a cup of tea though?"

"I'm sorry."

"You know the likelihood of a Time Lord vomiting under an anaesthetic is minimal."

"I expect it is, but, since you have already been sick within the last 24 hours and the future Jack told me that without the drugs you were sick several times while waiting for the surgery to take place. I think it is important that we don't take that risk because you will still be as relaxed as a human once you've been anaesthetised and it is not the act of vomiting we worry about it is simply the passive regurgitation of the stomach contents when the anaesthesia relaxes the sphincters and oesophagus. That could happen couldn't it?"

"Maybe."

"Then, no tea for now," Martha apologised with her tone. "If you need to freshen up you can brush your teeth if you want to? Or, we can allow you to have a couple of sips of water."

"If I can have a couple of sips of water then why can't I have a couple of sips of tea?"

"Because with a couple of sips of water I mean you can wet your lips and freshen your mouth. With a couple of sips of tea you mean you would drain a mugful," Martha commented and he sighed. "Just relax for a while. It's not going to be that much longer now. I will go and see how Jamie is doing in surgery," Martha offered.

"Do you want to borrow Alan's book?" Captain Price asked the Doctor revealing that in the past few minutes the Colonel had drifted off to sleep.

"What for?"

"For something to read while you relax?"

"It might help?" Martha prompted.

"What is it?"

"It is one of the Sharpe series," Captain Price advised. "Bernard Cornwall, Alan likes them."

"Books about war?" the Doctor rolled his eyes slightly. "That figures."

"Oi, what is that supposed to mean?" Martha asked him. "Don't you start getting grumpy just because you can't have a cup of tea."

"They aren't books about war, they are books about people that happen to be set during a war," Captain Price offered. "I used to think the same thing. But I've read most of the ones Alan has got now and they aren't bad. Why don't you read it before you comment?" She challenged and took the book across to the Doctor. The Time Lord read the jacket of the book. He then appeared to flip through it and Martha sighed. He was being obstinate and speed reading it.

"I suppose it was okay," he conceded and handed the book back to the Captain.

"No sulking," Martha warned him. "I am sure it won't be long until we can get you into surgery and then the next thing you know you will be having a nice cup of tea as a reward for behaving. If you don't behave. You don't get a reward, you get orange squash like everyone else in the recovery room."

"I'll behave," the Doctor grumbled.

"Good."


	41. Chapter 41

It was another half an hour before Jamie came out of surgery. She was on full life support, but instead of the ventilator being attached to a tube down her throat the emergency tracheotomy that James had made with a pen had been surgically ratified and there was now a plastic cap edging the wound which then had a plastic box to collect any blood, saliva, and mucus and that led into a tube that was attached to the machine that wheezed and clicked as it breathed for her. It was all taped into place and secure and would mean that her damaged jaw would not risk her breathing. There were surgical scars along the underside of her jaw on both sides. There had been little attempt to minimise the scarring due to the extent of the injuries she had. Her jaw had been put back together. It had been in seven different pieces and they'd been slotted and then plated back with two screws across each fracture line. She only had four teeth left in the whole of her mouth, two of them were lower wisdom teeth that had simply been too stubborn to be dislodged from the otherwise shattered bone. She had a canine tooth and an incisor left in the right side of her upper jaw.

A waterproof putty had been secreted between the line of her exposed bottom and top gums and her jaws had been wired so that she could not move her lower jaw at all. There was a small gap at the front so they could suction out her mouth and if she woke she could get her some cool damp sponges to suck, but she'd not be eating or drinking for some time due to the damage to her throat. It had been repaired and they had somehow managed to poke a nasal feeding tube down her ragged swollen oesophagus so she could receive a liquid feed that looked much like banana milkshake. Her hepatic artery that had been plugged for an hour by James's finger had been resected and then joined together again with a stent and a bit of vein much the same as Martha had repaired the Colonel's femoral artery. She had lost her spleen, her pancreas, and 40% of her liver. If she survived she was going to need to take drugs to support her immune system and she'd need to control her blood sugar though intravenous insulin. Depending on how well she did she would start with injections and then might be able to move to an insulin pump as without a pancreas she'd not be producing the hormone at all.

Scans taken immediately before and during the surgery had shown that the attack she had endured from the Harlequin had been sufficient enough for her to receive and significant and complete spinal injury. Two of her vertebrae in the middle of her back, level with the gaping wound to the front were quite literally pulverised and the bones above and below had serious breaks in them. They entire section of her back had been broken through, including her spinal cord. The MRI scanner had shown there was no need to check for any reflexes as the cord was severed at the level of T12. She was going to be completely paralysed. If she was lucky, the injury was low enough that she might be able to retrain her bladder and bowel, but at least initially she would have no control of any function below the waist. She certainly would never be able to move her own legs. Any life outside a wheelchair was going to be out of reach. There was none of the hope associated with spinal injury that cord swelling would decrease and battered nerves would recover. The nerves were broken through and the paralysis was absolute. If she recovered from her other injuries well enough she was going to end up in rehabilitation for months.

Martha stood at her bedside and read through all the medical notes that had been updated while Jamie's dedicated team made sure her life support remained in place as she was taken straight from surgery through to the HDU. They had not been able to stabilise her spine during the surgery as she had grown too weak so she was lying flat on her back and a body cast had been fashioned that still enabled them to get to the surgical wounds to her abdomen but would not permit any movement. She would go back into surgery to have the fractures dealt with in a couple of days if she was strong enough. Even if they would not be able to save the nerves they had to make sure that none of the fragments travelled and caused additional injury and that they were stabilised to heal so that she could function in a wheelchair without chronic severe pain. Martha knew they would probably just fuse that whole section of her back together and hope that she recovered enough.

Martha liked Jamie. She didn't dislike anyone really, but she did like Jamie. She was young and feisty and was often in and out of the medical centre with different bumps and bruises. Most recently the broken ankle that James had been treating her for. A message had been passed to him that Jamie was out of surgery and he was heading in on his crutches. Martha signed knowing that James would probably be involved in putting her spine back into some kind of order. He had not mentioned a spinal injury when he'd talked about her so Martha didn't know if he was aware of it. She thought that it might hit him harder than many expected it to.

"How is she?" James asked as he leant heavily on his crutches.

"She's survived the surgery. All current bleeding has been halted and her airway has been secured," Doctor Scott advised his colleague. "I've fixed her jaw back together for her, save you the job, but we've not touched her spine. We thought we'd leave that one for you," he announced. That was certainly not the way Martha had intended to let James know that she had got life altering spinal injuries.

"Let me see that?" James indicated to the pad Martha was holding. He looked at the injury. He had dragged her across the pathology lab with very little actual care other than to be able to get her out of view and to be able to try to slam the buckled door shut. He saw with some sense of personal relief, but a medical horror, that the injury was so significant that his moving of her would not have altered the outcome. He knew when that had happened as well. When the Harlequin had thrown her she'd slammed backward against the door frame. It had just about snapped her in two.

"Bollocks," James tossed the electronic pad back toward Martha and went to leave without saying any more on the matter.

"James?" Martha was not quite sure what to say to him. If anyone ever doubted that James cared about his patients they just had to look at the expression on his face as his façade broke momentarily. His knee was hurting him. He couldn't do everything all at once could he?

"Now she is out of surgery we'll be taking the Doctor in. I will do a last review of his scans and see what he is looking like," James advised doing exactly what Martha knew he needed to and finding someone he could fix.

"Okay," Martha commented. She'd not told Barb or Lauren that they were going to have to come out what had been a difficult surgery and go back into another. The procedure of fixing an open leg fracture with a temporary external frame was a bit of a gruesome one but it was not that hard a surgery. Martha was 90% sure that there would be no issues and it would be a simple in and out of the theatre for the Time Lord, but, they were operating on an alien and that meant the 10% risk was unknown so Martha needed to have full confidence in her team in terms of acting if things did not go as planned. She was also basing her decisions partially on the universal law of sods. If she'd gone ahead with Anita and Doctor Sutherland she'd have had no qualms on a human patient, but it would go wrong with the Doctor. So, she waited to have the most experienced team because will all those precautions in lace, making the Doctor suffer longer, getting her staff to do back to back surgeries? Doing all of that meant utilising Sod's Law that it would all be fine.

Martha was satisfied that Jamie was as well as could be expected and that the care she was receiving was as good as possible. She went to find Lauren and Barb in the changing rooms to apologise and let them know they would be going back into surgery within half an hour or so. She was surprised to find that they were getting prepared to go straight back in, aware that there were other patients needing surgical attention and rather than apologise to them Martha ended up insisting that they slowed down, had a drink, and rested for twenty minutes of the half hour grace time.

James went into the Doctor's room. He'd not been told about Jack's foray to get drugs for him so he expected the Time Lord to be unconscious considering Martha had let go of his hand for long enough to go and tend to someone else. Instead he went and found that the Doctor was half sitting on the bed and appeared to be reviewing medical records on a tablet, which was highly irregular and in breach of every medical protocol going.

"What are you doing?" James asked him. "You can't go snooping through other patient's records. That is unethical. Give that here," he went to take the tablet back off the Doctor.

"I am reviewing Cole's data."

"I'm not sure that his condition is any business of yours, Doctor."

"I am waiting for an update on the degree of circulatory distress he is experiencing in terms of the start of potential gangrene in his toes," the Doctor advised.

"He is assisting Martha," Captain Price interjected. "So, you can keep your hair on, okay?"

"You're assisting?" James asked in disbelief. "And, how exactly are you going to do that?"

"Um, I'm providing a portable hyperbaric chamber so that Cold can be given oxygen therapy under pressure. I am also providing a more effective antibiotic to which no current bacterium has any resistance and will knock his infection flat. I am providing him a medication that will boost his blood oxygen levels, but, until I know how his gangrene has progressed I won't know which version of the drug he should take. One will boost his circulation, however, if the damage to his extremities has reached a point where they are irretrievable it is better he does not receive that drug as it could cause a sudden release in toxins from the damaged tissues into his blood supply. Gerald has gone to get the most up to date information and then I will be looking at it, so, if you don't mind, I'd quite like that back?" He indicated toward the tablet. "Has the data refreshed yet"

"Yes, he has no circulation in his left foot. It looks like amputation will be required."

"Then he can only receive the rug that will halt the progress if irreversible damage has been done. An attempt to reverse it would flood his body with further toxins and in septic shock he's not going to be able to withstand that. I will make sure Gerald knows that when he comes back. Jack is familiar with the type of hyperbaric chamber I have so he will be able to instruct with that and hopefully we will be able to halt the resolute march of those intestinal microbes that have taken residence in his blood stream."

"You're providing a portable hyperbaric chamber?"

"From the TARDIS, yes, Martha was concerned that the nearest one available is in Portsmouth and that he would not survive the journey. I've got one in the TARDIS."

"Why?"

"It looks pretty," the Doctor commented rather sarcastically. "It's in case of oxygen deprivation, or the bends, or in case of exposure to a partial vacuum. Spacey things mostly. Things that you're not likely to understand even if I did take the time to explain them. Does it really matter why I've got one except that I do and it could save Cole's life?"

"No, I suppose not."

"What did you want anyway?"

"Sorry"

"You didn't come in here to tell me off about looking at medical records, did you?"

"No."

"Then, what did you want?"

"I did not expect you to be conscious and coherent," James admitted.

"Jack managed to get me some more suitable analgesics."

"From the TARDIS?" James wondered why they'd not got them sooner.

"No, I expect he got them from a pharmacy on an asteroid out in the Magellen Cluster in about the 53rd Century."

"If you're going to take the piss, Doctor?"

"I'm not, he teleported out to get them for me. You think the Sontarans are the only ones with teleporting technologies?"

"I really don't know anymore."

"So, what did you want?"

"To examine your leg again."

"Examine?" the Doctor squeaked and visibly paled at the thought of being examined. Examined meant touched didn't it? Examined wasn't look at or scan it was examine. They couldn't do that to him. The cowboys were barely held at bay. If they touched him? God it would be like the Kentucky Derby at the Okay Corral!

"I'll just do a scan instead," James advised. "I want a current view before we take you in. Jamie is out of surgery so Martha will be coming and getting you shortly."

"Oh, okay." The Doctor visibly gulped and paled a little bit more. It was getting close and he was actually more than a little scared by the whole prospect, not that he thought James would do much good at putting his mind at ease, he'd probably be more interested in discussing the size of the hammer he was going to be using to whack metal pins through his shattered bones. James barely said anything more as he took a scan of his leg and then left to review it elsewhere.

"I've heard about his bedside manner, but not actually witnessed it before," Captain Price commented. "He is quite something isn't he?"

"I think he saves his best for me," the Doctor grumbled. "He's supposed to be the best at what he does so I shouldn't complain," he acknowledged. He made the mistake of accessing the scan had done from the tablet he had in his possession. He'd not looked at his own record, just those of the people who had been hurt by the Harlequin, but curiosity got the better of him. Now the fractures had compounded they were more significantly out of place both in the middle of his shin but also in his knee. He was going to need the best at what he did. The Doctor was suddenly glad that Martha had cruelled denied him a cup of tea because he felt incredibly sick.

"Are you okay?" Captain Price left the sleeping Colonel's bedside and went over to where the Doctor was lying. He didn't look quite as comfortable as he had done and then he'd not looked particularly well at all.

"I didn't expect it to come round so soon," the Doctor admitted. "I was always going into surgery when Jamie came out and that was an undetermined timescale but now she is out." He sounded a bit sheepish about his concerns.

"It is good isn't it? From what I gather once the surgery is done you're going to be feeling much better aren't you?"

"I hope so," the Doctor sighed. "It is going to hurt less once the fractures are stabilised but it's not going to be a walk in the park. In fact it is going to be a long time for walks anywhere, never mind a pleasant stroll through a park. It's really happened hasn't it? It's really happened and I'm about to go into surgery to have metal rods and screws and nails hammered through my leg."

"It has really happened," Captain Price confirmed sympathetically. "I know that going into surgery can be a bit worrying, but it's not going to be for long now. You will have this surgery and then you can start to get better."

"This surgery is only going to be a temporary fix. I'll need two or three more after this one before I will be able to heal effectively and then another surgery once it has all been done."

"So you'll have some more then?"

"Yeah," the Doctor nodded. "I feel a bit sick about it all."

"I am sure that is quite normal," Captain Price tried to reassure him. "In a way I am almost glad that Alan had to have his at such short notice. Don't tell him I told you this, but the last time he had surgery he knew a couple of days in advance and he was such a baby about it! You'd never think the man ran the biggest UNIT base in Europe! But once it was done he was much better, and I am sure you will be the same. Even if it's not the only surgery you have to have, when you wake up you will not only be in less pain but you will be able to have a cup of tea, so things will be much better won't they?"

"Yes, I suppose it will."

"Poor Alan is not allowed to have any tea or coffee until Martha says so. He'd normally be ion his eighth cup of coffee by now, he drinks far too much of it. I keep on telling him he is addicted to the stuff but he doesn't believe me. He gets really grumpy and headachy if he doesn't get his coffee. Martha tells him off about the amount of it he drinks as well, but I don't suppose coffee is the worst thing to get hooked on is it?" Captain Price commented. "I don't think Alan actually believes he is addicted though."

"Caffeine is quite a powerful stimulant," the Doctor advised. "When Martha is trying to keep his blood pressure down it is important he doesn't have anything with caffeine in it." The Doctor looked across to the Colonel. He was sleeping but he looked pale and unwell. He had the drips in and an oxygen line to his nose. He hadn't reviewed Alan's medical records yet. Perhaps he should look to see if there was anything he could do to assist him, but if he was just recovering from blood loss and the damage to his hip and the femoral artery had been repaired and morphine provided him enough comfort for him to drift in and out of sleep then it seemed Martha had him well covered and catered for already.

She was a good Doctor, and, if he had to have surgery then he was pleased she would be leading. She knew he was an alien and that he would need some additional cares taken. He'd not be left lying in a morgue to regenerate with wires sticking out of his chest, so that was definitely one up.

"How long do you think your surgery will last?" Captain Price asked him seeing that his mind was wandering.

"It shouldn't take too long. An hour or so once they've got it all ready. I suppose they will take all the cast and dressings off under anaesthetic before they start and then get on with the hammering and fixing, then they'll put another cast on. If they close the alignment in my knee or ankle then it may take longer. A couple of hours at the most."

"So, in what, two and a half hours? You will be in less pain and you'll be enjoying a cup of tea," Captain Price assured him.

"That sounds good," the Doctor acknowledged. He knew Captain Price was trying to make him feel better, but he also knew that she was struggling to find the right thing to say to him. He wasn't bouncing around as if he owned the place making people forget that he was an alien, and, from what Martha had told him earlier he'd upset Colonel Mace. He recognised Price. She had been in the control room most of the time they had been at ATMOS. She'd have seen him run roughshod over the Colonel's command. He guessed that maybe it was true and maybe you should be careful about who you piss off and upset and make feel worried because you never know who it is that is going to be trying to provide emotional support when he was about to have titanium pins barbarically hammed into his smashed leg.

The Doctor was quite relieved when Captain Jack and Mickey came into the room. Captain Price went over to Colonel's bedside again.

"How are things out there?" the Doctor asked.

"We've set up the hyperbaric chamber and Cole is in it now. He's had the drugs from the TARDIS and they are going to monitor him and see how he does," Jack advised. "Martha said she is going to be ten minutes and then it is your turn."

"Thank goodness for that," the Doctor commented trying not to let Jack or Mickey know just how worried he was getting. Mickey knew. He'd inadvertently blurted out that he was scared to him. At least he was going to be able to get it out of the way and as Captain Price advised him have a cup of tea. The oxygen he was breathing seemed to be drawing out the moisture in his mouth as if he'd been chewing on a Cardellian sponge mite.

"So, this is what I'm going to go and fetch for you then?" Jack commented as he picked up the box of drugs that had been left on the Doctor's bedside cabinet for now. He opened it up and looked at the drug names. He actually recognised the two compatible drugs but he didn't recognise the bottle of pills. He committed the name of them to memory and that they were orange and blue twist capsules. "They will work even better once you've had the operation won't they?" Jack checked with the Doctor.

"When your leg bones are back inside your leg where they are supposed to be," Mickey added helpfully.

"Yeah, they will."

"And, since you've got the drugs now it just goes to show the surgery goes well doesn't it?" Mickey commented. "If it didn't then you'd not be able to tell Jack what to go and get."

"That is very true," Jack advised. "Nothing to worry about is there?" He looked down on the Doctor from his bedside. His heart was breaking for the pain he had been in, for the pain he was still in. He was sure he was going to be haunted by the images from the TARDIS records of the Doctor with his leg stuck in the ladder for a long time to come. Certainly for as long as it was going to take the Time Lord to get back on his feet and they'd still not said for sure that the recovery he was going to make would be complete. They carefully used words like a good recovery or an adequate recovery, or without serious limitation.

He supposed in the face of the injuries that had been received by some of the UNIT soldiers that if he did end up with a slight limp or a slightly weakened knee or ankle after this that he would be incredibly lucky, but he doubted the Doctor would ever see that and Jack knew he wouldn't either. Not for the Doctor. The Doctor needed to make a full recover. He needed to be able to run around like a lunatic, to be able to jump further than anyone could imagine, and to be able to turn on a halfpenny. Anything less wasn't going to be good enough.

The Doctor took Jack's hand. He had seen the way the Captain was looking at him with such a depth of undeserved unconditional love and concern and hurt as if it was his leg that was broken as well. "It will be okay," the Doctor assured Jack. "And, you better have the kettle on when I come out. I will be wanting that cup of tea."

"I'll make it myself," Jack assured him and kissed him on the forehead. The Doctor sighed, but he did not complain or scold him. Jack smiled, even if it was just because the Doctor was too tired to waste the energy – that was progress!

It was closer to fifteen minutes when Martha came into the room. The Doctor wasn't sure if the additional five minutes was a relief or an annoyance, but when she got there he felt a wash of nausea over him. "Okay, Doctor, we're just about ready for you now. I'm sorry it has taken so long," Martha apologised.

"Actually, there is something you need to do before you go into surgery with the Doctor," Jack advised Martha with a grave tone.

"What is that?" Martha worried that Jack had learned they'd not set the hyperbaric chamber up correctly or that someone else had developed a life threatening complication that would have to be prioritised again. It looked like Cole was going to end up losing at least a couple of toes so they needed to halt the infection as quickly as possible.

"This," Jack reached behind the medication box on the Doctor's bedside and revealed a brown paper bag that had been put there. It was a lunch pack. "You've got chicken and stuffing," he told her. "Cheese and Onion crisps, and a mars bar to eat."

"Jack?" Martha sighed and rolled her eyes slightly.

"No, you've been running around all day and you've not eaten since breakfast," Jack scolded.

"Haven't you eaten?" the Doctor was surprised. It was getting on for six at night and they'd eaten breakfast early as Jack had gone off to get Wilfred at the crack of dawn.

"I've been kind of busy."

"We can appreciate that, but, I'm not having you operate on him without eating first. If you end up fainting on him in surgery then I'll not be happy," Jack argued. "So eat. If you're not going to be sensible and eat because you need to then you can be sensible and eat because he needs you to." Jack knew that there were times and places emotional blackmail was perfectly acceptable and this was one of them.

"You do need to eat, Martha," the Doctor agreed. The medic sighed and opened the sandwich, but she didn't sit down as she took a bite of it. She didn't know if eating was going to kill the nervous butterflies inhabiting her guts as she prepared to operate on the Doctor or give them a new lease of life. It was quite a bit deal to her, not least of all because as annoying as he was, he was one of her best friends and she cared for him deeply.

"Okay, what we're going to do is take you down to the surgical area. We will give you an anaesthetic. We're going to be using sevoflurane that you will inhale in a gaseous form. We would sometimes mix that with nitrous oxide but we know that won't affect you well. We will also be giving you propofol in an intravenous form which is a general sedative. We will give you that first to sedate you and then administer the gas to reduce the risk of an anxiety triggered respiratory bypass reducing the intake of the sevoflurane." Martha took another bit of her sandwich. "We will vary on giving you both the gas and the propofol throughout the surgery and I've got my top anaesthesiologist to come in with us. Her names is Lauren, you'll like her," Martha assured him knowing that whether he liked the person or not was going to have a lot to do with how comfortable he felt as well.

"Once you're suitable sedated we will increase the Bladamine and the NA1Z to their absolute maximums and then we will remove the cast, give the wound a good clean, reset and repair the fracture the best we can at the moment, and then we will close the wound. I've not seen it, but we're hoping that the skin will close fully. James is confident that it will as he says the bone has pierced the skin rather than ripped through it."

"Okay."

"It's not going to take us too long. We will make sure that there is a good dressing system within the cast. One of the drugs Jack brought back is an anti-inflammatory isn't it?" Martha checked with the Doctor rather than with Jack so he had some minor involvement.

"Yes, the NA1Z-A34 complimentary drug," the Doctor confirmed.

"As you've already started on that with the NA1Z we're hoping that will stop you swelling up due to the surgery, so, we're going to cast you back up and then you're going to be the first person to come round from the anaesthetic in our nicely restocked and deep cleaned recovery suite. Once you're awake we will get you back round here."

"For a cup of tea," Jack added.

"Yes, for a cup of tea," Martha agreed. "Do you have any questions?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Is there anything you think we might need to know? Will you react to propofol and sevoflurane normally?"

"Normally for me."

"What about compared to a human? You've not screamed at me that it won't work and don't use those drugs?"

"They are both fine, but like with the ketamine it will take a considerably larger dose to work and I'll metabolise it quickly."

"I have worked out that we gave you 325% of the human dose of ketamine at a rate that was 240% faster. We are going to be looking at using a similar ratio for the other drugs," Martha commented.

"You worked it out?" the Doctor was surprised.

"Of course I did," Martha nodded.

"Thank you."

"Hey, I'm not going to be taking you into surgery without being a little confident about what I'm doing with you," Martha offered and smiled. "And, I've got Lauren in there and she will be monitoring you right down to the percentage inflation of every breath you take. We're going to look after you, okay?"

"Okay," the Doctor nodded. He seemed to relax a little bit and Martha could see he was understandably unwell.

"Have you had enough to eat?" Jack asked Martha. She had only had half the sandwich and the mars bar.

"I will finish when I'm out of surgery," Martha commented. "You ready to go?" Martha asked the Doctor.

"I guess I have to be."

"Yes you do," Martha confirmed. "It's time to go."

"Good luck, Doctor, you'll be fine," Captain Price offered.

"What are you wishing me luck for? I'm just going to go for a kip. If there is any luck to go round can you not give it to Martha instead?" the Doctor tried to be humorous as Martha unclipped the brake on his bed.

"See you soon," Jack rubbed his shoulder. "I will have the kettle on."

"Yeah, see you on the other side, Boss." Mickey commented.

"Hang on a second, are you taking him now?" Sarah Jane hurried into the room. Wilfred was hot on her heels. Sarah Jane kissed the Doctor on the cheeks and Wilfred rubbed his shoulder as they both said good luck, again to him and not to Martha. They were after all there for the Doctor. That there were plenty of other people now needing company and support was beside the point.

"He will be okay," Wilfred commented when the Doctor had been wheeled out of the room the worry and concern in his voice.

"Course he will," Mickey agreed. But he looked as worried as anyone else.

"I will need to ring Donna," Wilfred commented. It was getting on for six o clock. She would be heading out to pick him up from the newspaper stand soon. At least on a Saturday he was there longer because he did the Evening Standard as well. Sarah Jane had already offered to give him a lift home once the Doctor was out of surgery and they knew he was alright, so he was just going to tell Donna that he'd met up with a friend and would be spending the evening with them. That wasn't technically a lie, even if Donna would assume it was in a pub rather than a military hospital. He'd tell Sylvia about his day when he got home. No doubt she'd be furious with him, but he couldn't tell Donna. He sighed. The poor Doctor, he bet he could use Donna to gee him up and keep his spirits alive on his long road to recovery. When he was out of surgery and feeling a bit better he would see if he could think of any way she could come back into his life. Until then he watched as Martha wheeled him out of the East Wing and down towards the surgical theatres.

"Doctor? This is Lauren. She is going to administer and monitor your anaesthesia and pain relief throughout the surgery," Martha introduced him to a young woman wearing surgical greens including a green hat that hid her hair completely as it was all tucked up and pinned underneath. Her eyebrows were a mousy brown colour but the Doctor had learned a long time ago that did not mean her hair would match.

"Pleased to meet you, Doctor," Lauren shook his hand. "You don't need to worry, okay? It's all going to be fine. I will be monitoring you right throughout the procedure and we will keep you safe and soundly asleep."

"Hi," the Doctor acknowledged. His life was going to be in her hands. He looked at her hand in his. Her nails were clipped short. They were not bitten. The skin was smooth and moisturised. There was a pale line of a scar along one of her fingers. It was years old but it looked to have been quite a deep cut, otherwise it was clear she looked after her hands. He made a leap to indicate that would mean she would look after him. He wasn't sure if that was a good link to make or not, but he was going to cling onto it. Apart from anything else she worked with Martha and Martha thought highly of her.

"Okay, good, you have already met Barb," Martha commented as the other nurse in the room was familiar to the Doctor.

"Hello again," the Doctor commented. He knew she was going to look after him. She had done so already.

"I heard you went throwing yourself out of the bed and spoiling all the work we did before?" Barb scolded him slightly though her eyes twinkled with a mischievous and nerve quenching cheek. He linked her and he smiled at her comment feeling him relax slightly as she put him off guard. She was good.

"We're just waiting for James now, but I know you know him, so we will start. He won't be long at all." Martha saw the Doctor tense a little. She knew it was because of James coming and he wasn't even there yet. She wasn't quite sure what it was that was making James less amiable than normal. He didn't have a great bedside manner and though he professed to not disliking the Doctor it certainly seemed like he did as he was more off with him than she had seen with anyone else. She knew he would still do the best he could to fix his leg, but surely he was as aware of the need for the Doctor to be relaxed to benefit his leg as much as his general manner.

She had thought James might have softened from what had been said, but it didn't seem like he could have. Perhaps it was just the Doctor's perception, but it was also quite unlike the Doctor to actually be bothered by an individual without good cause. Normally it was because they were alien and trying to undermine some government or hatch a universe destroying plan, rather than because they were a doctor with a lousy bedside manner, but she wasn't sure. She didn't want to have to replace James as his lead in terms of his leg because it was a serious injury and James was going to give him the best chance of the best recovery, but it was going to be a hard, painful, and difficult few months for the Time Lord.

She didn't want him to be further stressed by his medical team. Then he'd be even less likely to stick around and comply. She half imagined to see him try to pilot the TARDIS with his leg in a long cast and crutches. Although she felt for the sentient time ship it was probably a good thing that she was damaged so the Doctor couldn't just try to run – hop – away. If they were going to get him to the point where he could run away then they needed to proceed.

"Alright, let's start," Martha instructed. She took a position at the Doctor's head and caressed his hair back from his forehead. She knew his instinct was going to be to fight the sedation and she didn't want him to so she wanted to try to relax him as well. She didn't want his bypass to be triggered. "Lauren is going to give you the propofol now, Doctor," Martha told him softly. "It is going to make you feel very sleepy, just close your eyes and go off to sleep. It's got a nice extra dose of Bladamine in there just for you and some of your own sedative and those nice new painkillers Jack got you. It's going to be a nice melty cocktail, so just close your eyes. Imagine you're up there drifting in the vortex all nice and relaxed," Martha offered. "It's a lazy afternoon of library smoozing up in the vortex where nothing can spoil your relaxation. Close your eyes and let yourself drift off to sleep," Martha stroked his head as his eyes started to slide closed. "There we go, just relax, Doctor. Go with it. That is it, well done, you're just drifting in the vortex," she assured him quietly as she carried on stroking his head.

Just as Lauren was pushing the last of the milky looking fluid in through the canola in the Doctor's arm to complete the sedation James arrived at the surgery. He didn't know how far they had gone and whether he was able just to go straight in or not. So, he waited at the door and knocked on the glass panel seeking entry. His knuckles rapped on the glass and the Doctor gagged. The heart monitors had been put on audible and the slowing bleeps leapt up quite significantly for a moment. He tried to move, to get away, he couldn't stand the knocking, but his head was swimming and he felt heavy and he couldn't... Martha felt him tense.

"You're alright," Martha caressed his head. "You're alright. Just go with it. Let yourself go, Doctor. It was just James asking to come in. You're alright," Martha soothed.

"…ay-m-sh," the Doctor slurred thickly.

"Yeah, that's right. We can't do this without him can we?" Martha commented. "He's going to help fix you up. Nothing to worry about at all. You're going to be fine, so just relax and go with it, love. Don't fight the drugs. Let's go back to where we were, up in the vortex where it is safe," she soothed him and the Doctor began to relax again. "That's it, Doctor. We'll see you in a couple of hours with a nice up of tea," she assured him. "That is it, go to sleep."


	42. Chapter 42

Martha waved James into the suite and he came in dressed in green scrubs but on his crutches. There was already a stool in the surgical theatre that had been scrubbed down and was ready for him to sit on. There was a separate pair of crutches set at the right height just inside the main theatre door that had also been sprayed down with a strong antiseptic so there was no increased risk of cross infection from James going from one patient to another with the crutches. He always took precautions anyway, if he was dealing with a patient he didn't just wash his hands down he washed the hand grips on his crutches down too.

"Did you have to knock on the door like that?" Martha asked James as he came in.

"What?" he puzzled wondering what he had done wrong now.

"A psychic told him he was going to die after someone knocked four times and you start knocking on the bleedin' door at him," Martha stated but there was no accusation in his tone. "You gave him a shock."

"Well, if he's going to listen to some psychic loon about idiotic things like that, then he deserves a bit of a shock," James commented. "How are we doing with him?"

"We've given him the propofol, I'm about to start to administer the sevoflurane," Lauren advised.

"I want him intubated straight away and before we give him that," Martha brought them back to the surgery. She got the straight intubation device out when it was more common to use a curved one on an adult. Lauren went round and she tipped the Doctor's head back, holding it right back to stretch his throat. Martha slid the metal device down past his larynx and then pushed a tube down through the middle of the guide so that it sat right down his throat into the top of his lungs. She twisted a collar that inflated a small ball at the end of it to hold it in place, and then she removed the metal contraption.

"His bypass won't be able to close his throat now," Martha advised. It was not normal practise to intubate before the patient was fully anaesthetised so she wanted to explain why she had done it right. "He might have just triggered it so he wouldn't breathe the gas otherwise."

"He's sound asleep," James advised.

"It's an autonomic response, it may have still happened. Now it won't." Martha advised. She saw there was a spot of blood on the metal contraption when she laid it back down on the metal tray for cleaning later. It wasn't a lot so it would cause him no more issues than a possible sore throat when he woke. He was still breathing deeply and cleanly without any assistance so Martha taped the tube in place to the side of his mouth and his cheek so that it wouldn't move around and that it was easily accessible by Lauren.

Lauren mixed a bronchial dilator with sevoflurane liquid and put it into a vaporiser. As the gas collected in a reservoir it was mixed with oxygen and then flowed up into the mask that she positioned over the Doctor's nose and mouth ensuring that the end of the tube through which he breathed was inside the mask. She'd seen less experienced nurses put the mask over the nose and mouth with the tube sticking out the side and then wonder why the drugs wasn't making taking any affect.

Martha taped his eyelids closed so that his eyes didn't slide open as he relaxed completely. He'd not be able to blink and refresh his corneas if they did. They attached all kinds of monitors onto him wanting to keep an eye on his heart rates, his blood pressure, and his blood oxygen levels as a priority.

"So far so good," Martha commented. "Let's get the cast and dressings off his leg is the first instance," Martha instructed. They used a cast saw to remove the plaster and to peel the dressings off and around the exposed bone end. They got rid of the cast. "Okay, bathe his leg while we get cleaned up ready," Martha instructed Barb. She went through into the main theatre ahead of the Doctor while Barb painted the Doctor's leg from his hip to his toes in a dark orange iodine solution. Gerald came into the surgery as well and he assisted Barb as Martha went and scrubbed in.

Once the Doctor was cleaned up and green sheets were spread around him with his head out of one end and his leg exposed at the other he was wheeled through into the actual theatre along with all the equipment. Gerald and Barb scrubbed in as Martha and Lauren double and then triple checked they were happy with the Doctor's level of unconsciousness and the flow of the drugs. James came in and sat on a stool a few feet away from the surgical table but there was a screen up on the wall and there were cameras set into the ceiling which he focused on the Doctor's leg so he could watch everything Martha did without having to move off the stool and stand over him. A second screen was available for live scans of his leg and they would be taken regularly throughout the surgery.

Everyone took their place. Martha tried to stop the nerves getting to her as Gerald fastened her face mask so she'd not be breathing into the Doctor's leg and so she'd be protected from breathing in any blood that might mist into the air during the surgery which she knew was likely to be quite violent.

The Doctor was still breathing deeply for himself, but the machine that was providing him the anaesthesia could quickly be doubled up as a ventilator if needed. Martha didn't think it was going to be needed. He wasn't going to be under for too long really. An hour and a half or so was all it was going to take. She made sure that everyone was ready and happy. They were all in position.

"Right, have a look at the scan, Martha," James advised her. "The first thing you need to do is manipulate that fragment of bone so that the exposed bone can go back into place," James advised. "I recommend incising just below the wound to gain open access to the fragments. That free section of bone can then be wired into the lower section of tibia to keep it in position. Use a 2mm fixed wire hook," James advised. "It will act like a staple and bridge the fracture. You'll probably have to clamp it first."

"Okay." Martha knew how to carry out James's instructions, and while it was not exactly what she had been thinking about doing, she knew that the way James worked was better. She was not an orthopaedic specialist and it should have been James doing the actual surgery and her assisting him, rather than him consulting, her doing it, and Gerald assisting her. Still, they couldn't expect James to stand and operate and Martha wouldn't let him either. Not when his knee was likely to need some pretty extensive surgery in the near future as well.

"Keep the incision as small as you can, but don't go too small or you will find you are struggling for access. If he doesn't close it is not going to make that much of a difference if you've incised him an inch, an inch and a half, or two inches. Just don't go for six or seven," James advised. He watched as Martha used the scalpel to make the incision. The wound where the bone protruded from his leg formed one end of it and then she cut almost two inches down his leg so that they could open him up and gain access to the bone.

"Suction please?" Martha asked and Gerald sucked the blood away from the wound and wiped some away with the gauze so they could see the wound properly. Martha fitted a sprung set of clippers into the wound to hold it open. As Gerald sucked more blood out so she could see the fragment of bone. It was almost shaped like an arrow head where it had been sheared and then splintered. It was about an inch long.

"Okay, orientate that to the right point on the lower end of the tibia fracture," James instructed. Martha used her fingers to put the bit of bone back in place and in line. Barb knew what she was doing and she put a soft clamp across the fracture to hold it in position. She then passed Martha a wire staple. It was about an inch long and had bends in it so that she could hammer one end into the main section of his lower tibia and then into the fragment and it would hold. "Make sure you don't hit him too hard with the hammer," James warned Martha. "Don't forget that the bone isn't secure in his ankle either so you don't want to go too Hell for leather with it or those fractures might open as well and we do want to avoid that."

"Okay," Martha tapped it into place with the metal headed hammer.

"Right, good, now use a 1mm K wire. Drill a 1mm hole in the front of the lower end of his tibia at least half an inch down from the fragment line. Then, you need to pass the wire through the hole and up through the core so that it comes through the fragment. Make sure you leave a good inch of the wire exposed at the front of the tibia as well as we will use that to remove it. We will use that wire as a guide when we relocate the main fracture," James instructed. Martha selected a 10cm bit of the rigid 1mm titanium wire. She drilled a small hole and then she hammered the wire down through it, angling it down so that it appeared through the end of the fragment. She passed it down and the bent it up a little so that it was straighter. It stuck out 2cm and that would be slid into the upper end of his tibia when it was brought back into his leg and be used to help retain alignment. "That is it, well done," James advised.

"So we are using that as a guide wire?" Martha double checked she understood.

"Exactly, it won't necessarily hold the fracture but it will give us a good alignment. Now what I want you to do is put the top pin in," James advised.

"While it is still open?"

"Yes, I've just looked at the latest scans and I think we can use that pin as an anchor to get a better reduction in his knee as well," James advised. "So, put that pin in. Go five centimetres above the fracture so you're going to be going through just behind the wound. We will still get the closure because it is the lower leg that needs to extend down with the traction," James advised.

"Okay," Martha trusted him. This was the part that she wasn't too keen on. She got a scalpel and she made a tiny hole in the Doctor's skin confirming with James that she was in the right place. She then got the drill. She had to use a bigger drill bit now and she pushed the bit down through the wound she'd made until it was against the bone. She drilled a hole right through his tibia. Gerald kept the blood out the way and Barb passed Martha a long thin titanium pin and the metal hammer. She put the pin through the hole, hammering it through until it was pressing on the inside of the skin on the other side of his leg. She cut it with the scalpel and positioned the pin so it skewered right through his leg.

"Right, good, that is secure," James announced. "Now, take a live scan," she instructed. "What you need to do is use that pin to slide the bone back up to where it should be in his knee. It shouldn't put any pressure on the skin at all so don't worry about that. Get it right and get Barb to hold it and then I want you to put a K-wire through his knee. It won't secure it properly but it will hold it and reduce the movement in that fracture when his leg muscles spasm. I think that will reduce the amount of pain he is in as well, not significantly, but every little helps when your leg is in this kind of state. It's not going to be any good for healing but it will maintain a better alignment until we can fix it properly," James instructed.

"Okay." Martha did that at the same time as Gerald was taking scans that showed on the screen in the theatre every two seconds. They got as good an alignment as they could without opening his knee right up as they would have to when they stabilised him properly. Barb held him in position while Martha simply lined a wire up and then hammered it at a diagonal through the top of the tibia so that it came out the inside of his knee joint and then out his leg about three centimetres below his knee on the outside. She cut the wire so that only a couple of millimetres stuck out either side and then she bent it slightly with the pliers at both ends so it would not slip and slide or catch in the plaster when they casted him back up. K-wires caught in a plaster cast were a nightmare they wanted to avoid.

"How is he doing?" Martha asked Lauren as she saw her adjusting the oxygen feed for a second time. Martha paused to look at the monitors. His oxygen levels had dropped a little and his heart rates had gone up a bit in order to compensate for that. It was quite a normal reaction really as all the drugs depressed his own ability to carry on breathing. "Try slightly reducing the sevoflurane and increasing the propofol," Martha suggested.

"I already did," Lauren commented. "I will put it up a bit more." She adjusted the speed of the drip line which carried on providing the milky drug into his blood stream. With the oxygen increased and the drug ratios modified slightly he seemed to settle back down again.

"I've had visions of him waking up half way through this ever since we reduced him yesterday," Barb admitted.

"You and me both," Martha acknowledged. "So, I think the best thing we can do is get it done." She looked to James and he nodded.

"Okay, now is the pulling bit," James advised. "You need to apply traction to his lower leg and you will find the fracture closes quite easily. You need to angle the fragment so that the K wire goes up into the upper end of the tibia. You're going to have to use a fair bit of force to do it and you may lose the reduction in the ankle but we can deal with that afterward," James advised. "That wasn't done well because he'd woken up by the time we were on it yesterday."

"Don't remind me," Barb advised.

Barb held the pin in his upper lower leg to hold it still and carry on protecting his knee. Martha grabbed him above his ankle and used all her strength to pull on his leg as Gerald eased the bone back in through the skin and then onto the wire. It was strong enough to need some real strength but it went onto the wire quite easily.

"That looks quite nice," James offered. "Now, put another K-wire in first. Put it in on an angle through the fractures so it crosses over and stops any immediate rotation and flexing in the fragment. That is still going to be sitting freely otherwise."

"Okay." Martha did that fairly easily using a very long and thin drill bit to make the hole and then drawing the wire back through it and bending and then securing it against the bone.

"Good," James acknowledged. "Now, you need to put the second pin through. I want you to put that one just two centimetres below the fracture. We're going to be putting two pins into this lower edge to give him more stability," James advised. The original plan had just been to use one pin either side of the breaks, but since it had been opened he wanted to keep it even more secure.

Martha used the drill to make the first hole and then she screwed and hammered the pin through it. Then she did the same ten centimetres further down his leg. She knew how to do the next part of the surgery without any instruction as she put collars on the pins either side of his leg. They could be moved up and down the pins and rotated around and they had recesses in that would accept the cross braces. It meant they could adjust each pin to get the best alignment possible and then it would all be held and braced. They used the live scan to make sure he was in line.

"That looks excellent," James advised. He was impressed with what Martha had done. "That is it. All you need to do now is see how well he closes up."

"How is he doing?" Martha asked Lauren.

"His blood oxygen level has dropped again," Lauren advised. "I'm going to switch over to ventilation until he comes out of it."

"We've not long to go now," Martha advised. "Put him on it and we will get him off it again within a few minutes." Martha instructed. It was a shame the Doctor had not maintained throughout, but it would not hurt him to be ventilated for a while. Lauren put the ventilator on so that rather than just provide the Doctor his anaesthesia and oxygen it was also breathing for him. It pushed the air through the mask to inflate his lungs and then paused while it reset and the air was naturally exhaled. It was certainly not unusual to need it during surgery, so Martha was not that worried about him. They had just taken him a little deeper, but that had to be better than him waking up or being in pain. It was a common misconception that just because someone was anaesthetised it meant they didn't feel anything. That was not the case. Anaesthesia did not stop the pain it just stopped the reaction by paralysing the muscles. They'd started to paralyse his chest muscles reducing his breathing that was all. It was fine, they just breathed for him with the machine for a while.

Martha and Gerald gave his leg wound a good clean and washed it down with iodine again making sure there was no blood on his skin. They would be wrapping and then casting him so they didn't want any blood that would fester under there and increase an infection risk. They pushed the skin edges together hoping that they were all going to meet still. It initially didn't look as if the wound where the bone had pierced the skin would close, but they put a long stitch through it and then used that to pull the wound edges together. The stitch was under some tension when they knotted it, but the wound edges did meet. They doubled up with three other stitches so that the tension was spread and then they used staples along the incised wound. They painted it with more iodine and then put a dressing over it. It had a gel back to it so that it was soft and protective. When they put the cast over the top of it they would not aggravate the wound at all. Martha put small gel pads over the ends of the wires poking out of his knee as well to protect them.

"Right, the last thing you need to do now before you think about casting him up is to get a scan of his ankle and see if you can get a better reduction in his ankle and his foot before you do. If necessary you could put another wire to hold the calcaneus fracture together," James instructed.

"Okay," Martha acknowledged and Gerald altered the position of the over bed scanner so they could concentrate on his ankle.

"Martha?" Lauren interrupted the next part of the surgery. "His heart rates are picking up a bit again," she warned. Martha looked up at the monitors. The ventilator had got his blood oxygen level back into the mid-nineties, but his heart rates were quite high and as she watched they both rose by 5 beats per minute. They were still going up.

Martha moved and felt into his neck to feel his pulse and make sure that they were registering correctly. They were and his pulse felt horrendously fast but weaker than she expected. As she acknowledged that the blood pressure cuff on his bicep inflated again. It took his blood pressure every two minutes. As she feared it was came back and showed there had been a drop in his blood pressure. She set the machine to measure it continually rather than intermittently.

"Give him some more propanol," Martha advised. "Let's disconnect the sevoflurane. We can reduce his ankle if we need to and cast him up under sedation only. We need to bring him up a bit," Martha commented. The act of ventilating him had probably just increased the amount of the anaesthetic gas a bit more than Lauren had estimated as his lung volumes would be different to a human's.

They paused and watched the monitors for a while as they adjusted his medications. It was a tense few moments, but then he seemed to stabilise a bit more. His heart rates started to come down.

"That's it, Doctor," Martha encouraged. "Calm yourself down a bit now," she offered. "Let's just get his leg cast up and finish this off. If we need to do his ankle again we can do it later under ketamine," she commented.

"His foot is still a good colour," James commented. "Check he does have both pulses and then you can leave it. I don't think he will have come out too far."

"He has his pulse but if feels a bit thread," Martha worried. She went to his neck and felt it there as well. It didn't feel that much better.

"Doctor Jones?" Lauren worried as his heart rates were falling out of the range they had elevated into, but they weren't stabilising out, they were continuing to fall. His blood pressure and his heart rates were both dropping off.

"Doctor? What are you doing?" Martha worried. "Withdraw all medications and get his oxygen intake up to 100%," Martha instructed.

"Can you defibrillate someone who has got two hearts?" James asked Martha. He sounded curious as he asked the question but they knew it was because of the change in the Doctor's stability. If his hearts continued to drop until they stopped then their normal course of action would be to shock them back into rhythm.

"I'm not sure, but I'm not about to find out. Let's get the reversal agents into him and wake him up," Martha advised. "Doctor, this is quite enough."

"He's going into cardiac arrest," Lauren advised. Her voice was calm and professional as she recognised the inevitable pattern in his heart rates and the electronic ECG line.

"He is not!" Martha exclaimed. "You hear me, Doctor? You are not!" She dropped the bed down six inches so that she could lean right over him rather than work on him. "Get ephedrine and noradrenaline into him now!" She snapped to Gerald who readied the doses of the stimulants to give to the Doctor.

"Shit! What is going on?!" Martha demanded. His right heart stopped and his left was in an arrhythmia as it didn't pump blood very well at all. His systems seemed to have become suddenly too depressed.

He was behaving as if he had been given a massive overdose of the anaesthetic. They gave him the antidote to it and his left heart picked up a little. Martha tried to perform CPR on the right side of his chest to get his right heart going again. It took three rounds of it and a lot of swearing at him during which Martha actually called him a jerk. She got his right heart going again though. His blood pressure remained low and his breathing was maintained by the ventilator but his hearts were beating. Martha turned the audibly bleep back on so they could hear it. Sometimes that change was easier to not changes in than watching the monitors.

"I think that is panic over," Martha dared to breathe. "Let's get his leg cast and get him into recovery."

They cast his leg from toe to hip. They had to take strips of plaster up the front of his leg and the back of his leg where the pins were, but they left the gaps between the pins were not plastered over so they could make slight adjustments to the alignment with the pins and braces if they needed to.

"He's dropping off again," Lauren worried.

"Give him another shot of noradrenaline and ephedrine. I'm not sure what is going on. If this happened straight away I'd say we overdosed him, but this doesn't make sense," Martha fretted. "How are his oxygen levels?"

"His blood saturation is good."

"Let's get his bloods to the lab and see if they give us a clue," Martha advised. They moved him into the private area of the recovery room. He remained on the ventilator. Martha hoped he would quickly metabolise the drugs but over the following ten minutes his vitals all tried to drop off again. It was only because they kept shooting him full of adrenaline and ephedrine that he didn't just go into cardiac arrest again. He was burning through the stimulants keeping him going, but he was otherwise not responding well at all.

"I don't know what happened here," Lauren admitted. "I've never seen anything like this before. He was fine Martha, all the way through, and then he just crashed out of it?"

"Is he colder than normal?" Barb asked as she pulled the sheet over him a bit. Martha put her hand to his cheek. He was usually quite cool to the touch but Barb was right. He felt freezing.

"Go and get a thermometer," Martha instructed when she checked the trolley and there was not one in there. For some reason it had not made its way back from the East Wing. "What are you doing, Doctor? There is a cup of tea with your name on it, but not until you stop being silly."

"Martha, he is going again," Lauren commented as they watched his heart rates drop quickly. They couldn't afford to let them stop again so they gave him another bolus of adrenaline. It took a larger dose this time to get him to pick up again.

Martha checked his pupil response. It was there but it was incredibly sluggish. He was totally out of it, but thankfully not brain dead. If she'd killed him? "I'm not sure what to do," Martha admitted.

"I've certainly never seen a reaction like this before, then, I've never worked with a Time Lord," James commented as he stood observing on his crutches. He didn't really have anything to add that would be any use. "It is as if he is somehow allergic to one of the anaesthetic drugs he's received, but you would expect to get such an acute response to the medication within the first minute or so of the initial administration not after an hour and a half."

"Let's get a full blood analysis done," Martha instructed and drew a syringe of blood. She gave it to Gerald. "Give that to the lab with a priority one need for toxicology, blood counts, and metabolites."

"Yes, Doctor," Gerald took the phial as he hurried out of the recovery room. As he marched down the corridor he saw Captain Jack. The Captain had been waiting patiently to be told that the Doctor was out of surgery. He knew that Gerald had been in there with the Doctor. They had expected him to be out within the last half our or so, so it was good to see the medic. That meant the Doctor was out of the surgery. Jack headed down toward the recovery room in order to go and see him with the strange idea that if he was the first person that he saw on waking up that he would be imprinted and permitted to help him while he was hurt.

"Give him another shot of adrenaline," Martha barked what sounded like a panicked instruction as he went into the room. There were three medics around the Doctor. He was lying flat on his back with all the monitors and a ventilator? It didn't look like he was recovering very well to him, in fact, it didn't look particularly good. "Damn it, Doctor!" Martha snapped at him. "Enough is enough!" Martha snapped at him. "Give him another shot!" Martha instructed. "Come on, God dammit!"

"No affect," Lauren panicked slightly. "We're losing him."

"Give him another shot."

"Martha?" Jack looked at the monitors appalled. His hearts were stopping.

"Jack, you should not be in here," Martha stated. "Get out."

"What's happened?!"

"I don't know, but we're losing him, so get out."

"Losing him?! No! You can't be!"

"Adrenaline is no longer having an effect," Lauren advised.

"Let's try direct," Martha suggested. She'd done it to a human before. She was not sure about a Time Lord. She drew up a syringe containing adrenaline and fitted a long thick needle to it. She went for the left heart first, going slightly further over than she would in a human. She slammed the needles straight down into his chest, through his sternum, and into the heart muscle. They watched the heart beat stutter on the monitor and then get back into a strange kind of rhythm then settle down a little. She did the same for his right heart.

"Right, let's get him a glucose drip going as well. I want him on glucose, standard electrolytes, fluids, ephedrine, and adrenaline. Get a thermal blanket on him and get him warmed up. He is definitely cold. Where is the thermometer?"

"James went to find one," Barb advised.

"Let's get a catheter into him as well. He's not going to be going anywhere and all the drugs we're giving him will be building up now. I want him on a high rate of fluid and a diuretic let's help him flush everything through," Martha instructed.

It took them another half an hour and Martha hoped they had got him stabilized again. He was wrapped in a thermal blanket because somehow he seemed to be failing to maintain his body temperature even if it was lower than a human one. His hearts were beating but not in time with each other and he was still receiving the stimulants to keep him going. He was receiving two litres of fluid every hour and was getting a diuretic pumped in with it. He had started producing some urine through the catheter that drained it direct from his bladder. It had been so dark it was opaque as it first came through and it seemed to clog in the tubing as if it was quite thick. Martha had no idea if that was normal for a Time Lord or not, but she couldn't see how it was healthy if his urine was so viscous it did not want to get through the tubing.

Martha checked his pupil response. It was still pretty sluggish, she hoped that was due to lingering sedation, but she feared it was something more suspicious. If he'd burned through ketamine at such a quick rate he should have got rid of the sedation as well. Martha sighed heavily and caressed his head. She was not sure what else she could do for him.

"Martha?" Jack had not gone out the room when he had been told, but he had moved to stand at the far wall and observed silently not getting in the way or interfering at all. "What's happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Jack," Martha admitted. "It all seemed to be going really well. It seemed he had a delayed reaction to the anaesthetic. It totally suppressed his systems and we've been fighting to keep his hearts going for forty minutes or so. We lost his right at one point and he went into cardiac arrest."

"Shit."

"Yeah, I'm not sure how it happened."

"He will be okay, though, right?"

"I don't know, Jack. He is very sick. His hearts are beating, but not in a normal rhythm. If he was human I'd say he was having a heart attack, but I don't know with him. His respiration is still being mechanically maintained on full ventilation. His pupil response is very slow when the only drugs he is getting now are stimulants. We're flushing him through with fluid to try to assist him, but he's comatose, ventilated, and hypothermic. It's not a healing coma of any kind either, he's sick Jack. Something has gone wrong and I am not entirely sure what it is. I can only hope we can support him while he sorts it out and he will pick himself back up. I don't know what else to do because I don't know what is wrong."

"Are you telling me he could end up regenerating?" Jack asked worried.

"I'm telling you that he could either way. He could pick up, or, if he declines again he could die Jack. If he managed to regenerate then it would be a bonus, but we've just fitted a fixator to his leg. That part of his surgery has gone really well, but if he now regenerates? Unless he regenerates into a person with exactly the same length tibia it could totally shatter his leg all over again. He needs to pick up from this, I just don't know what to do to help him." Martha sighed.

"Sorry, Doctor Jones?" Lauren got her attention back. Martha sighed as she watched the monitor show that the Doctor's right heart was stuttering. It started to drop off again.

"Come on?" Martha pleaded. "Don't start doing this again?"

"I'm going to find out what to do!" Jack exclaimed suddenly.

"What? How?"

"Engineering," Jack suggested. He kissed the Doctor on the forehead, shocked by how waxy and cold his forehead felt to his lips. Then he ran out of the room. He ran down the corridor.

"Captain? Where are you going?" Ethan Coates asked as he sprinted past.

"You! With me now!" Jack exclaimed. He didn't even change his stride but Ethan ran with him. Jack leapt down the six steps from the back of the East Wing and carried on running.

"Jack?"

"Where is engineering?!"

"This way? But, you can't go in there, can you?" Ethan was confused.

"The Doctor is dying. We need to know how to stop it," Jack exclaimed.

"Dying?!" Ethan was stunned. "Fuck!" He sprinted with the captain into engineering. The future version of himself was sitting in the corner with his legs up on a bench as engineers worked around him he was reading a newspaper to kill the time before his earlier self-teleported out and he became the dominant owner of the time line. His earlier self that had just run into the room? Didn't he know anything?

"Whoa? You're not supposed to be in here!" He threw the paper down and leapt up. His earlier self just marched toward him and before he knew what had happened he had a strong fist in his face. He hit him hard enough to knock him down on his backside. "What the fuck?!" His head rocked back on his neck with the blow and he rubbed his jaw as he leapt back up to his feet.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell Martha beforehand?!"

"Tell Martha what?!"

"That he is going to react so badly to the anaesthetic!"

"What?" Jack didn't understand what the Jack who had assaulted him was going on about.

"He's fucking dying! How do we put it right?!"

"What do you mean he's dying?"

"The Doctor! He's fucking dying! I don't give a shit about time lines! Tell us how to fix it! He is in a coma and on a ventilator and they can't keep his hearts going! How do we fix it? Come on you must have been there because I was there! What did they do to put it right?" Jack demanded of his future self.

"I don't understand," that Jack commented. He rubbed his jaw where he'd been hit. At least he'd not tried to blacken his other eye. "The Doctor came through surgery fine. He was awake within a few minutes and the first thing he said was that it was time for his cup of tea!"

"He's not fucking fine!"

"Something must have changed between this surgery and the first time he had it," Ethan Coates realised. It might have been quite fun to watch two Captain Jacks slug it out, but not if the Doctor was sick and at risk. "What could have changed? If you can figure out what changed maybe you can figure out how to put it right?"

"Oh my God?" the earlier Jack looked at his future self. "What have I done?"

"The drugs?" the future Jack concluded and fretted at just about the same time.

"What drugs?" Ethan asked not getting what they were saying.

"We gave him the fucking drugs!" Jack exclaimed.

"I brought them back early," the future Jack advised. "He hadn't had them the first time round. There must be some kind of interaction between the future pain killers and contemporary anaesthesia that no one knows about?" Jack concluded.

"I mean why would they know?" the other Jack responded. "Since when do 53rd century analgesics get used at the same time as 21st century anaesthetics?"

"If I've…" both Jack started the sentence at the same time and then forgetting any risk of temporal anomalies about them being together, because neither of them was not going to go to the Doctor, they both sprinted back out of engineering.


	43. Chapter 43

"Get another two shots of adrenaline ready for direct application," Martha instructed. She was fretting now, more than fretting, but if she let the panic build in her then she was going to end up being unable to treat the Doctor. She needed to treat him because his hearts were close to stopping again. It was like they couldn't be bothered to keep going on their own, as if they were suddenly so tired and so worn that they couldn't bring themselves to carry on beating. She didn't know how long she was going to be able to keep on shooting him full of stimulants before it reached a lethal toxicity in its own right.

She didn't know what to do. She felt like a first year medical student being led on ward rounds by Mr. Stoker all over again, God rest his soul. He had died that day. The day she remembered putting her stethoscope to the chest of a man she had seen earlier in the day. She had been going mad. She was sure of it. He hadn't been dying then though, he had been staking out the hospital. She'd often wondered why he would have done something as idiotic as pretend to be a patient in a human hospital to stake it out. She could not have been the first person to listen to his chest could she?

Now though? She could see his hearts on the monitors. They were failing. They'd been continually failing since they had got him out of surgery. She had so many things she wanted to do. She wanted to give him loads of different drugs, the first things she wanted to do was give him a fairly large dose of aspirin, which of course she knew was impossible. It undermined everything she knew to do in this kind of situation. He was in cardiac arrest, two times over, because not only was he having one heart attack he was having two! Heart attacks in slow motion and she didn't know how to keep them going. If she stopped pumping him full of adrenaline and ephedrine she knew they were going to stop.

"Come on, Doctor, please?" Martha got her stethoscope and listened to his hearts directly. It didn't inspire her with confidence or bring the desired clue as to what to do. She just caressed his head. His lips were beginning to look a little bluish in colour. His skin was an unhealthy grey complexion. This really wasn't good at all.

"What's happened?!" Jack stormed into the room. He had a drying cut over his eye and a bruise down his cheek. It was the future Jack who had brought the drugs back for him. Martha saw the other Jack come in behind him and she realised what he had done.

"Oh, thank God!" Martha felt the relief wash over him. He had gone through this before hadn't he? He knew what to do. "How do we resolve this Jack? He is in cardiac failure and we can't get him out of it. What did I do the first time round to fix this? I know it may not be proper but I need to know, because I don't know how long we can sustain him like this. If we don't act immediately he is going to die."

"It didn't happen the last time," Jack told her. He tried to sound authoritative and brave, but he felt like his whole world was crumpling around him. "He woke up fine and desperate for his cup of tea. He was fine the last time. It must be an interaction with the drugs I brought back for him and the anaesthetic. That is the only thing it can be. The only thing that is different. I cheated time and brought the drugs back and…" He shook his head. "I don't believe this?" Jack ran his hand through his hair as tears sprung to his eyes. He had never seen the Time Lord looks so ill. He didn't think he could look so ill. "He was fine, Martha."

"Okay, in that case, if you don't have anything to add, I need you to wait outside," Martha realised with some despair that he wasn't the salvation she was looking for. "Both of you. Get outside and aren't you supposed to be staying apart."

"I think we're past that now," the facially unmarked Jack muttered. "We need to fix this. There must be something?" He felt like the world was crashing down, the weight of what he had done, what he was planning to do, what his other self had carried through with the conceit of someone who knew that they were doing nothing wrong and nothing would happen? He was responsible for this.

"His hearts are dropping off again, Doctor Jones," Lauren Baxter warned.

"The best result we get is from going direct. Let's try a direct mix of 50:50 adrenaline and ephedrine this time," Martha instructed as she got a syringe with a long thick needle on it.

"Oh fuck?" Jack knew what she was doing. She was going to inject him straight through his chest and into his heart?

"Right, lets get some scans as well. See if there is any kind of blockage in there. I doubt there will be, but we need to be looking at figuring this out, now." Martha was obvious scared. "I'm sorry, Jack, both of you. I need you both outside. You're putting me off."

"Martha?"

"No, now, out. I mean it this time. Out!" Martha yelled at them. Both Jacks left the room, getting the feeling that she was as mad with them as they were with themselves. Out in the corridor they were at a loss as to what to do.

"I'm going to teleport back out. See if they know of anything to help," the Jack with the black eye and a working teleport advised. "You go to the TARDIS. See if you can come up with anything there."

Without any discussion one of the Jack's shimmered out of their presence utilising the wrist completed. The remaining Jack stood a little bewildered for a moment at the gravity of what his choice had done. He had been planning on getting the drugs early all the time and look at what he had done. He had to go to the TARDIS. She was on standby but he was sure she would power up and if he could explain what had happened? They had given him NA1Z and then contemporary anaesthetics and sedatives and something had gone wrong.

As Anita ran into the recovery room, almost knocking him over with a trolley and a scanner on it, Jack knew he had to move. The TARDIS would know better than anyone how to fix this, wouldn't she? God, he'd been so intent on making him more comfortable and stopping his pain, and maybe showing off a little bit. He could have killed him! Jack ran.

"Where are you going now?!" Ethan asked him.

"The TARDIS, come on," Jack dragged Ethan with him unsure if anyone would let him into the TARDIS without a UNIT member and worried that he would just deck the first person that tried to delay him.

"Why can't you just not teleport back early? You've not done that yet have you?"

"Not now!" Jack couldn't think about how to explain why he had now established events even if he'd not done them. He couldn't go ahead to change them just as he couldn't go back to change him. The more things they did to try to put them right the worse it would be, and if he didn't then the Doctor wouldn't have got the things out of the TARDIS and people like Cole would die.

God! He had been so cocky! He was a Time Agent and he was trying to show off to a Time Lord and he might have killed him! He was bending the rules not breaking them, there would be no issue in giving him some drugs early and then whammo! Whammo? When was that a word? It was a rubbish word if it was, but fuck, bollocks, crap? None of them seemed right and that was all that was in his head. That and that he had killed the Doctor.

It was a ten minute fast walk across to the other side of the base and warehouse 7 where the TARDIS remained. It was probably just shy of a mile, but Jack and Ethan sprinted the entire way. Ethan didn't comment about the jeep parked outside that they could have taken, they just ran.

"Out the way!" Jack yelled at the guard at the TARDIS. He pulled his key out and went into the ship. He was out of breath from his long run and Ethan was bent over with his hands on his knees sucking air in like he'd just sprinted a mile.

Jack ran into the TARDIS and looked at the damage on the console. It didn't seem fair to be demanding that the TARDIS assisted them but she would still be connected with the Doctor even if she was on standby.

"I need you to wake up!" Jack insisted and tapped at a couple of buttons near the monitor as if bringing a PC out of standby mode. He knew it was not the same, but the contact tingled in his fingers and the Captain rubbed the console. "Come on, old girl, I need your help, please?" Jack stroked the console. "I think I've killed him. You need to tell us how to fix him. I've been so stupid. Please, Angel, you need to help me to fix it?" Jack pleaded with the ship.

Ethan Coates stood and watched as the Captain just talked to the ship. He wasn't quite sure what that would achieve and if the pressure had finally got to Jack making him snap. He felt a wash of warm air in the otherwise cold space and the emergency lights came on. They were dim at first and then gradually came up further like the energy saving bulbs used in some areas of the base. Jack knew it was because she was hurting.

"I am so sorry, girl, I promise I'll come back and try to patch up some of this damage until the Doctor can repair you properly. I can try to make you more comfortable, but I've made a mistake," Jack admitted quietly. "I'm so sorry," he whispered as he knelt at the side of the console and rested his head against the edge. "I've hurt him."

"I didn't mean to. I swear I would never hurt him. I'd never do anything to hurt him and I'm scared I've killed him. His hearts keep on stopping. Martha is pumping him full of all kinds of stimulants to try to keep them going and they are still failing," Jack explained. "I need to know what I can do to help him. I went to get his pain relief. I mean I've not been, I'm going to go, and I'm planning to go to the Magellan Cluster to get them so that is where he would have gone. He came back with NA1Z and NA1Z-A34 and we gave him that. It helped him a lot. He was more comfortable. He was screaming with his leg it was so bad. It is open now, I don't know if anyone told you that?" Jack commented. His breath misted in his air as the TARDIS turned cold sharing her concern for her pilot.

"They took him into surgery. Martha took him and they used contemporary drugs. They gave him sevoflurane and propofol. I don't teleport out to get it until after his surgery and the returned version of me said he came through the surgery fine. That he woke up wanting a cup of tea. Now he's crashing and he's ventilated and Martha said he's in a coma and his body temperature is too low? He is so sick. It has to be because of the drugs. What can we do? He's going to die. I'm so sorry, please, you need to help us?" Jack insisted. He put his hands on the edge of the console as he knelt there, leaning his head against it, hoping that he would get somewhere.

"Please, old girl. You beautiful thing, please?" He knew that flattery always helped work on the TARDIS, not that it would be needed when the life of her pilot was in the balance.

Jack was at a loss. He didn't know what he could do if the TARDIS didn't help.

"Jack?" Ethan Coates tried to get his attention. "Captain, Sir?" He indicated toward the monitor. "It just came on by itself."

"Oh, you beautiful girl," Jack looked at the screen. It was showing a bottle of liquid and its location in the sickbay. It was in a locked cupboard and the lid and the label were mauve. That meant it was pretty dangerous. "What is it?" He asked quietly and closed his eyes. He knew that he was close enough to the TARDIS to connect to her, but neither of them had tried since he'd been made immortal. He knew the TARDIS struggled with his nature as well, but he felt a tentative brush against him.

"It is okay, girl, I know I'm strange to you now," Jack assured her. "I'm strange to him too." He felt the link strengthen. He got a sense of what the chemical was. "A haemostatic cleanser?" he repeated what he felt from the TARDIS. It was a universal antidote to unknown chemical toxins. It was harsh though. It was going to rip through his systems.

"What is it?" Ethan asked quietly.

"It's a futuristic chemical blood cleaner. It can be used on Time Lords," Jack explained. "It's really nasty stuff," he offered. "It is going to clean his blood of the toxins, but it is going to clean it of the drugs as well, and it is going to clean it of some of the things that he needs."

"What things?"

"Hormones, nutrients, and stuff," Jack commented warily.

"So what, you just give him it?"

"He gets it given to him through an IV, and then he's got to just wait. She thinks that if we use dialysis on him afterward that it might help him, but there are some things that are going to react once they get through his kidneys and they're going to precipitate out in the nitrogen rich urea?" Jack winced as he found out what the TARDIS was warning him about.

"What does that mean?"

"It's going to cause the Time Lord equivalent of kidney stones." Jack didn't want to do that to him when he was so sick. The TARDIS felt his reluctance and she continued her explanation. "There is no other choice," he told Ethan, though the Private was not as upset about it. He didn't know anything about kidney stones and what that would mean. "The TARDIS thinks that the problem is that the anaesthetic has reacted with the NA1Z-A34 compound. It was not the actual painkillers but the complimentary drug and that is slow acting. It is not reacting to the drug but to what his body breaks it down to and because it is slow acting it gets broken down over a long period of time and the amount of it in his blood increased and that is why the reaction to the anaesthetic was delayed. If they didn't cleanse his blood then he was going to keep on getting worse and worse as the drug continued to break down. He was in trouble now."

"Then we need to clean his blood then?" Ethan commented.

"It's kind of like using a chemical bleach. It's going to cause damage as well. The treatment is going to make him pretty ill, but it is going to clear the toxins from his blood and if we don't do that then the damage they are causing to his hearts and to his other systems is going to be fatal. There is no choice. H is already under biological stress that is why his body temperature is cold. He is draining himself to keep himself going."

Jack could see they had to give him it. They had to run the whole supply he had in over a period of time. The TARDIS hoped it would be enough. She had to keep giving him it all the time he was processing the long acting A34. She showed him a test strip bottle. A drop of blood was put onto the test strip and when it went green the toxins were gone from his system. It would be anything from purple through blue otherwise and the darker it was the more toxins he had in his system. The cleansing solution was not selective though and it was going to destroy useful chemicals too. They would have to give him a boost. There were blood packs for him in the TARDIS and there are also glucose and nutrient drips for a Time Lord. They needed to get them sorted. Jack was worried about what the treatment was going to do to him.

The TARDIS also showed him a drug that would bring him out of the heart failure and a delivery system for it. It would bring him out of the state of heart failure and it would keep them going. "Thank you," Jack rubbed the console. He got the impression that he had to touch one of the metal levers on the console. He thought the TARDIS might want him to adjust it or change its position for her, but when he held it he received quite a significant electric shock.

"Y'ow!" He leapt back as it sparked and visibly arced at him.

"Was that static?" Ethan checked. HE was sure he had seen a blue spark building and then leap into Jack's hand.

"Yeah," Jack advised and rubbed his hand. "And a telling off." He acknowledged as he got a strong impression that he was being accused of being an idiot child for crossing into time lines without being conscious of the consequences of doing so. He accepted the telling off, but the TARDIS then warned him. She knew how much the Captain loved the Doctor. He'd be fine once he'd had the treatment. He just had to get all she'd said from the TARDIS sickbay.

Jack went through to the sickbay. He found the blood packs easily. They were marked as 'X' so he knew they were for the current Time Lord. He better not be getting up to 'X1' any time soon. He grabbed four of the blood packs and gave them to Ethan to carry. He then found the drips the TARDIS had shown him that contained a more appropriate mix of nutrients to support a Time Lord rather than the ones Martha were using which were okay, but not fine-tuned for him. He then found the bottle of the cleansing fluid and he found the drug and delivery system to get his hearts out of heart failure. That looked pretty frightening.

"How do we administer the drug, girl?" Jack checked with the TARDIS. He got a sense of it. "10ml boluses every 30 minutes until the test strip comes up lime green," he repeated. He got a warming feeling telling him he was right. He picked up the testing strips as well. The bottle contained 70mls. That meant he could have it for 3 hours. He hoped that was enough. The TARDIS was not entirely convinced, but if it wasn't then the other Jack could go back off world and get some more of it.

"Right, I think that is everything. Let's get back to him," jack advised as he and Ethan were laden with medical supplies. Jack got a parting impression out to give him any more of the NA1Z-A34 until he was totally recovered and he had no issues with his blood at all. Thankfully he could still have the NA1Z, but it would probably be three or four days before his blood chemistry stabilised again and then he could have the A34 introduced again, but now within 12 hours of surgery. "Okay," the Captain acknowledged. What he was being told. "Thank you and I'm sorry."

Jack and Ethan both ran out of the TARDIS again, but instead of running straight back toward the East Wing Ethan veered to the left.

"Where are you going?! We need to get back to the Doctor?" Jack felt desperation surge through every cell. What if it didn't work? If they didn't get back to him in time? If they didn't fix him then he would have killed the Doctor, and there was no point suggesting that it was the other Jack who had actually done it. They were the same person just at different points along their time line. He had done it. He was responsible. He had been a Time Agent for several years before going on the run, he wasn't entirely sure what would happen and who would become the dominant Jack if the Doctor died. He would probably have to teleport out still, but technically it was the other Jack who was out of synch. Who was he kidding, he was in the 21st century and was over 2000 years old. How could he ever truly be in temporal synch with anything again? He was an anomaly. He was a fact, an aberration and an affront to the senses of the man he loved; the mad he could have killed, the man who he had to get back to and who he was currently heading the wrong way from.

"There is a jeep!" Ethan insisted. Just around the apex of warehouse 7 there was a jeep on standby. It was one of the roofless buggies used to move around the base. Ethan jumped into the driving seat. In the sun-visor was the key. Ethan started it up and Jack jumped in as they raced across the base to the hospital building in just a couple of minutes.

As they sprinted down the corridor Major Starkey tried to flag them down but it was not time for a chat. Jack's feet skidded on the tiles as he surged into the recovery room. Martha, Anita, Lauren, Barb, and Gerald were all still working on the Doctor. That meant he wasn't dead yet.

"Jack! I told you to get out. And you Ethan," Martha was exasperated. She was losing the Doctor. His right heart had stopped again. His left was stuttering rather than beating. She had risked shocking him to try to get his right heart going but the surge of electricity had almost knocked out his left heart. It had damaged the already weakened rhythm. She couldn't risk trying it again.

"I got stuff from the TARDIS," Jack advised her. "I went and took her out of standby. She told me what we need to do. What you need to do," Jack offered. He was not going to do anymore. He had done enough damage already. He looked across to the Time Lord, he was a sickly blue grey colour. His body was totally slack. There was none of the tension of sickness anymore. He was just there, grey and melted into the mattress. His chest was bared and had all kinds of electrodes on it as they measured the failing output of his only remaining heart. His chest went up and down but in time with the mechanical click and wheeze of the ventilator. It was doing very little to provide oxygen to his tissues because there was no longer enough pressure from his heart to keep the blood flowing around his body.

Jack went over and put all the supplies back on the vacant bed beside the Doctor's. Martha couldn't leave the Doctor to go and look at what Jack had brought. She was poised with a defibrillator. They had brought a second one in and Lauren was poised with that. It was their last ditch attempt. They were waiting for his left heart to stop and then they were going to try to shock them both at the same time.

"Martha, the TARDIS says we can save him. She says it is the NA1Z-A34 secondary compounds that have interacted with sevoflurane. That is why he did not immediately react. It is a slow acting drug so it built up in his system, but it is still building up and it is still making him sicker," Jack advised. "You have to give him 10mls of this drug into his blood stream every thirty minutes until the toxins are out of his system. They will be out when the test strips go green."

"Okay," Martha acknowledged.

"I've also got something that the TARDIS said will get his hearts out of failure and will support his cardiac function."

"It might be too late, Jack," Martha admitted quietly.

"I don't think we have a choice by to try do we?"

"No," Martha agreed. The Doctor's left heart was fluttering too much. "Okay, let's see what it does then. The drugs to support his cardiac function and then if we have to we can shock him," Martha commented. "Where are the drugs and how do we give them and what is the appropriate dose?"

"It is already preloaded into this," Jack took a strange looking device from the bed. It had two spring loaded nozzles on it, a pump action running to each of them, a reservoir filled with a straw coloured fluid. "You just put it against his chest so it is lined up with his hearts and then you depress the trigger and it delivers the drugs into his hearts. It goes into both at the same time. It is better than adrenaline but better on Time Lords," Jack explained.

"Okay," Martha took the device from Jack. She put it against his chest. It was too wide but there was an adjustable cross brace to make it narrower for his skinny frame. She adjusted it, then saying a silent prayer she pushed down on the trigger. It went down and clicked but that had just primed the drug charge. She then had to fire it. It sounded almost like a gun shot and she could feel the kick back of it. She thought she heard a cracking sound from somewhere within the Doctor's chest and her own heart skipped a beat as she feared she may have just broken a rib for him. Normally they did that during CPR, but his chest was already showing several bruised puncture marks where they had been ramming needles down through bone. If he survived then she could apologise to him later. She pressed the device down until she heard it bleed and the straw coloured fluid had drained into him. Then she pulled it away from his chest to reveal that the spring loaded nozzles now had two three inch needles sticking out of them. They had been fired down into his chest. If he had been awake that would have been agonising.

"How do we reset it in case we need to give him another shot?" Martha asked when there didn't seem to be any affect from the drug.

"It is a one shot drug," Jack advised knowing from his connection with the TARDIS. She had passed him more information that he had been aware of and he was able to respond to the questions. "He can only have one dose."

"It does not appear to have had any effect," Lauren commented. "Should we charge to defibrillate?"

"Yes," Martha handed the empty device back to Jack and they returned to their previous plan of trying to provide direct shocks to his hearts at the same time. It would either work or fry him. Martha feared they were going to fry him, but she wasn't entirely sure what else to try.

"Hang fire a moment," Jack advised. "It takes a moment for the drug to work. The TARDIS said it might look worse to begin with," he offered. "It's all the adrenaline in his system as well."

"Doctor?" Martha was stunned when the Time Lord tensed on the bed. He arched backward and she thought he was gagging on the tube ventilating him for a moment, but then he went totally rigid. "He's having some kind of seizure," Martha panicked. "Hold his head," she instructed to Lauren. It was not usual to restrain anyone in a seizure but with a tube down his throat they did not want it to damage him or for it to become disconnected. The Doctor started to twitch. It was quite slow to begin with as he jerked as if someone had walked across his grave and a shudder rose from the depths. It quickly became more violent.

"Oh, Doctor, this is doing your leg no good at all," Martha commented sadly. "You're okay, just calm down. Come on, ride it out and relax," Martha tried to soothe him. In a strange way she had to accept that fitting was worse than dying even if it was horrible. "Come on, Doctor, you're okay." She tried to sound confident but it sounded like she was pleading.

As suddenly as the Doctor had started to seize he stopped. His breathing was uninterrupted due to the ventilator, but a low whine was issued from the monitors. Both of his hearts had stopped. Totally stopped. There was nothing.

"Shit! He's in a full cardiac arrest, both sides!" Martha exclaimed. Lauren grabbed her paddles and Martha grabbed the second set. "Charge to 340." She decided to start quite high. She thought they would probably only get one chance because to shock simultaneously would also risk crossing electrical charges across the separate machine pads and short out the equipment. As Martha turned the dial on the defibrillator to set the level of the charge she heard a quiet bleep-bleep.

"Martha?" Anita looked at the machines that were hooked up to the Doctor. They held their breath as there was a several second pause before another bleep-bleep.

"Come on, Doctor?" Martha breathed. Bleep-bleep. "That's it, well done, you can do it. I know you can." Bleep-bleep. There was a steady increase in the output of both of his hearts. They were beating again. Not only that but his blood pressure was coming up and his hearts were growing in speed and in strength. It took almost three minutes for them to come up to a level and then stabilise out, but he had done it.

"You need to get the toxins out of his blood stream now because they are just being pumped around him faster," Jack advised. Martha looked at him curiously. "Sorry, the TARDIS is still showing me things," Jack admitted to her. He didn't want her to think that he was trying to tell her how to do her job. It wasn't him, it was the TARDIS, and if Martha was going to listen to anyone then it was going to be the TARDIS. "Give him 10ml of the haemostatic cleanser straight away," Jack insisted. "You need to do it quickly because it could eat the syringe if you're using plastic and you need to use a different syringe each time or get hold of glass ones," Jack offered.

"It's going to eat the syringe and you want us to give it to him?" Anita asked Jack and the Captain nodded. Martha drew up 10ml of the quite viscous neon green fluid. It looked like fairy washing up liquid. Blood cleanser that looked like dish washing detergent. Martha sighed. She knew there was nothing she could do but follow the TARDIS instructions. She pushed it in through the canola into the vein.

"Now what?" Martha sked Jack.

"He can still have the NA1Z but none of the complimentary A34 until his blood has been clean for 24 hours. She thinks that might be two or three days. Then he can have it again, but it reacts with the anaesthesia so he can't have it for 12 hours before any further surgeries he needs. The haemostatic compound will cleanse his blood, but it is also going to cause a lot of damage. It is going to destroy some of his blood cells and reduce his immune system. It is also going to upset his natural blood chemistry. While he can still have the painkillers it is going to be as effective as that is going to be cleaned out of his blood as well. When his blood is clear he can be given a round of dialysis to support the removal of the toxins, but the TARDIS has warned that some of them are going to precipitate out into his urine and cause the equivalent of kidney stones. They can't be lasered, but they will pass naturally regardless of the size. His body will deal with them so we don't intervene with them. He needs a constant supply of nutrition."

"He's getting that through the drip," Martha assured Jack.

"I've got some packs that are specifically made for Time Lords so have a different combination of minerals and vitamins in line with what he needs rather than what a human needs," Jack advised. "As the haemostatic cleanser will also risk damage to blood cells there is some blood to give him a transfusion if it becomes necessary. There is enough of the cleanser to last for three hours. It should be enough, but he's going to be pretty sick, not just because of what I did to him but also because of the treatment. It really is a last resort because it will totally wipe him out," Jack advised.

"What do you mean what you did?" Martha asked Jack as she changed the fluid drip over to the one from the TARDIS.

"I got him the drugs early," Jack advised. "If I'd not breached time then he'd not have got them early and he'd have had no issues through the surgery."

"No one knew there would be an interaction, Jack," Martha insisted. "And, if he is going to be as sick as you say then he's going to need you around to support him not to be all morose and miserably about something that was totally unforeseen. He didn't say anything did he? If he knew there would be an interaction. He'd not have gone through it all. It's not your fault, it is just one of these things, and, I know you think it is your fault because you went to get the drugs and come back early, but how do we know that if we gave him the drugs after his surgery that he'd not have a worse reaction and he's due further surgeries. The reaction could happen then and because the next surgery will be more involved and longer he'd have been given any stronger anaesthetic combination and he'd have been on the drugs longer so he'd have more metabolites in his system already. Judging by the reaction he's had now, if it was immediate and strong it might have been immediately fatal and we'd not have had the time to go to the TARDIS to find out what to do about it."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"The most important thing is to get him through this," Martha insisted. "He seems to be more stable now and that is thanks to you. So, what else is it we need to do?"

"Test his blood with the test strips. The darker purple the strip goes the worse he is. It will eventually show up as lime green and that is when the blood is clear and we can stop giving him the haemostatic cleanser. The ATRDIS suggested that when he gets to that point that dialysis may help him to get rid of the toxins in his blood," Jack explained. "They will bind to the cleanser."

"We will continue pushing the saline as well then, but not the diuretic. It will help him flush out but we don't want to overload his renal system and put that into shut down," Martha advised. She looked at Jack but the Captain rubbed his face as if he was suffering from a headache himself and she wondered if being a link with the TARDIS was putting pressure on him, or on her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah fine," Jack confirmed. "It's just hard seeing him like that. He's in a bad way isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is," Martha nodded gravely. "I think that if we can support him and these drugs do what they are supposed to then we may have a chance, but we also need to think about how long his oxygen saturation levels were through the floor. His blood was not pumping around his body for long. There is a chance that he will have some symptoms of hypoxia and they could have varying degrees of permanence," Martha warned. "That is not something we're likely to see until he recovers, if he recovers."

"He has the ability to recover from any hypoxia related symptoms," Jack advised as the TARDIS commented on it for Martha's benefit. "It will take him some time but he will recover now. He may experience some discomfort but he is likely to sleep for several hours. The only issue will be when the drugs run out if he is not yet testing green. Then we'll have to send the other Jack back to go and get some more."

"Let's do this test then and see what colour he is now," Martha suggested. She got a test strip out. It looked like a standard test used to test blood or urine. It had a colour key on the side of the strip that ran from a dark purple through to bright yellow. The neon green was in the middle and that was where they wanted his blood to be. Martha got a small sterile needle from her kit designed for testing for blood sugars. She pricked the fleshy pad of the Doctor's middle finger and squeezed a drop of rich red blood from it. She tipped it to the end of the strip so that it kind of slurped into the test sponge at the end of the strip.

"You need to wait 30 seconds to get a true reading," Jack advised. Martha held the strip as they watched and the red of the blood on the strip end started to darken. The blue of the test beneath the red gave it a purple colour. As they watched it went a dark purple and then continued to darken until it looked blacker than coloured. If it was not actually off the scale it was definitely at the very worst end of it.

"So, we give him a shot of that haemostatic cleanser every 30 minutes and hope to see an improvement?" Martha checked with Jack and he nodded.

"His blood oxygen levels seem to be holding now and his heart rates are in a matching rhythm," Lauren advised as she remained at his head and was constantly monitoring him. She did not think she was going to take her eyes off him. She was the one who was supposed to have been keeping him safe and he'd almost died under her watch.

"Does the ATRDIS have any thoughts on how long he should remain fully ventilated?" Martha asked Jack.

"He will let you know when it is time for it to come off," Jack advised.

"How?"

"That is all she has said," Jack commented. He rubbed his face. "She's damaged and fatigued. She can't hold onto the link for much longer. It is fading but she is content he will fight back now as long as there are no further complications. We just let him recover, give him the drugs until he tests green, and then we can assist him with a 4:12 dialysis." Martha nodded her understanding. Jack dropped to his knees and rubbed his face as the TARDIS lost her connection with him.

"Whoa, steady, Jack?" Martha caught his arm so he didn't fall any further.

"She lost the connection," Jack advised.

"Are you okay?"

"I think I could do with an aspirin, but yeah, I'm fine," Jack offered and rubbed his aching head. Telepathy was hard, especially over a distance. "I guess now all we do is wait and see how he does?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, and I need someone here with him at all times, and, I want to get a scan of his leg to make sure the seizure he had didn't blow the alignment. I've not even got the second layer of the cast on yet so we need to do that and then we can get it split again," Martha advised. "We're definitely going to end up doing that again as we can't give him the anti-inflammatory drug now," Martha advised.

"Who do you want to stay with him?" Anita asked Martha.

"I will stay," Jack commented.

"Sorry, Jack, but I need someone from the medical team to do that. You can sit in here as long as you don't get in the way, but I don't want people in and out. I'm not going to move him into the HDU, but this is now an extension of that and needs to be treated as such. You can stay but if any other non-medical personnel want to visit then you need to leave as it will be only one visitor at a time," Martha instructed formally.

"I'm not sure if Sarah Jane or Wilfred are even aware of how badly it has gone," Jack admitted quietly.

"They will be in a moment, because I will need to go and tell them. I'm sure they're expecting news an hour or so ago and this is not the news they are expecting. Still, if there is anything we're going to be delivering a lot of today it is difficult news," Martha commented sadly. "Anita, can you stay in here please. Lauren, if you could make yourself available to Doctor Carter. There will be more people going into surgery soon."

"Yes, Doctor Jones," Lauren confirmed. Anita also agreed and she pulled up a seat.

"Jack, I will see about that aspirin for you then go and talk to Sarah Jane and Wilfred."

"Do you want me to go and take them to the new relative's room?" Ethan asked Martha.

"That would be very kind of you, Ethan, thank you." Martha accepted the assistance.


	44. Chapter 44

Martha went into the staff area and got a strip of Anadin out of her own locker for Jack. She wasn't going to go down the line of prescribing anything for him unless he really needed it. She took them back to him and then went to the relative's room.

"Martha?" Sarah Jane looked concerned.

"You were a bit longer than you anticipated, love, is his leg all sorted now?" Wilfred asked trying to be positive. Both of them were standing in the middle of the room, not quite sure why they had been called in there and not to the Doctor's bedside. They were waiting for the nod to get the tea ready, Sarah Jane had already managed to source some biscuits for him to have with it.

"I am waiting for an updated scan on his leg, but the actual surgery went as well as we could expect," Martha advised them.

"Oh, that is good, I was getting worried then," Wilfred commented, but Sarah Jane put a hand on his arm to halt his relief. She could see something unexpected had happened. The way Martha looked drained and tired and worried was more than just because she was waiting for a scan.

"Has he regenerated?" Sarah Jane asked.

"No," Martha offered. "But, that raises a question as to why under the circumstances didn't he regenerate." Martha hadn't considered that. His right heart had actually stopped three times and his left had been very close. Why hadn't he regenerated? "There was an unforeseen complication," Martha chose her words carefully. "It is incredibly unfortunate that it has happened, but I also believe that had it occurred during a future surgery that the consequences may have been immediately fatal or even direr and without any warning or a chance to react," Martha commented.

"What has happened?"

"There was an interaction with the different drugs that he has been given, and that we did not expect and could not predict due to the nature of the drugs from different time zones. They caused an intensification of the effects of the anaesthetic and he reacted as if he had been significantly overdosed with the drug. As this reaction was a result of the chemicals that one of the drugs is broken down into within the body rather than the drug itself the effect was gradual. In other cases he may well have just had a double heart attack that could have been immediately fatal. As it is he is very sick and he did go into heart failure. His right heart stopped three times and his left was severely impaired. Now, the TARDIS has given us some more drugs and we've got him as stable as he can be, but he is still very poorly. He is currently unconscious and he remains on a ventilator that is supporting his breathing and ensuring he gets enough oxygen. He is receiving treatment to remove the toxins from his blood and we are hoping that once that is done he will recover, but the treatment itself is harsh and will cause him issues that we will have to support him through and manage the best we can. He is going to be kept under permanent medical supervision until we are satisfied with the degree of his recovery. It is going to take a few hours for him to receive all the medication he needs and then we will have to put him on dialysis for a four hour period. Hopefully that will take the strain off his systems, but he's pretty poorly at the moment. I was worried we were going to lose him, and in fact both his hearts were stopped for over 20 seconds. We're hoping that with the drug therapies he's undergoing at the moment that he will recover, but we're not sure how long it will take or how sick he is going to be," Martha explained to them. "Do either of you have any questions?"

"Can I see him?"

"Yes, of course, but as he is in critical care it is only one non-medical visitor at a time. Jack will have to come out first."

"How is the Captain?" Wilfred asked quietly.

"He's blaming himself," Martha sighed. "He thinks if he'd not brought the drugs back then it would not have happened. The Doctor needed the drugs though and it was not foreseen. It was accidental and not the result of Jack's actions," Martha insisted. "He also went and interfaced with the TARDIS in order to get the information we needed to save the Doctor and that has given him a headache. He will be fine as long as the Doctor recovers, if he doesn't, then I am not sure."

"Then we better make sure he recovers hadn't we?"

"While I concur there is a large part of this which is totally out of his hands and beyond our capabilities and understanding," Martha admitted. "A lot of it is down to the Doctor and whether he is strong enough to fight and to pull through. He's got some hard days in front of him. I just hope he is going to do his part as well. We will certainly do ours," Martha advised. "I am sorry I don't have better news for you. I think it would be best if you went to see him and then if you both went home for the night. He is going to be out of it, so, it would be good if you were fresh on your return. He is going to be feeling pretty rotten at the very best."

"How has it gone so wrong?" Sarah Jane asked Martha sadly.

"I can't answer that. I can only hope that we are on the way to putting it right. I also need to thank you both for all the support you have given to the injured today, not just to the Doctor, but to the men and women caught up with the ghost."

"It was the least we could do, love. Is it all calming down a bit for you now?"

"Not quite yet. We've got a few people still waiting to go into surgery and we'll have to do some more assessments on the seriously injured, but with the hospital running better we seem to be managing more effectively. It will be a while before we can put our feet up," Martha advised.

"Well, make sure that you do, love. Now, come on, let's go and see to the Doctor," Wilfred suggested. Martha nodded and led them down to the recovery room which would now be turned into a single bed intensive care room for the Time Lord until he was recovered enough to go back in with the Colonel. She was going to have to go down and tell him that his roomy wasn't going to be back for a while as well.

"It is one at a time, so I will go and ask Jack to come out," Martha insisted. She could have probably let them all in there, but she didn't want to break the rules as if she had to enforce them later it would be harder. Jack was sitting at the Doctor's bedside in a chair stolen from somewhere. He had one hand on the Doctor's limp hand and his other was just gently caressing the Doctor's hair back from his head. He was going to end up with a proper Tintin quiff with the amount of head stroking that went on. They certainly needed to look at giving him a bath now too. There were still some crusting sports of blood from his head on his skin and it had not all been removed from his hair. Martha thought she would ask Eddie to come in and do that for her, she was used to washing and cleaning patients in the HDU. She'd have him washed and shaved in no time. If Martha tried to shave him there was a risk of another arterial bleed in the department and she had seen enough blood in the last twenty four hours to last a lifetime. It was strange how she could carry out some of the most delicate surgeries with the sharpest of scalpels yet when it came to shaving a man's face she'd leave them looking like they'd been given a facial by Edward Scissorhands.

"Jack? Would you mind coming out for a moment so Sarah Jane and Wilfred can come in? Then I'm going to get them to get off home and return tomorrow if they can."

"Are you going to make me leave?" Jack worried.

"I'm not making anyone go, but you should think about getting some time trying to get some rest. The Doctor is going to be out of it."

"Yeah." Jack sighed. He looked at his vortex manipulator. It was only a few minutes until the next dose of the drugs had to be given to him. Anita had it all in order so he knew he didn't have to worry about him not getting it. He just wanted to make sure he was safe after it was his idiocy that had caused it.

"Come on," Martha encouraged Jack to get up. "Go and grab yourself a coffee, oh, and you could fetch one for Anita too?" Martha suggested knowing Jack was more likely to do it for someone else than for himself. He nodded. He'd get one for Martha as well and make her drink it.

Martha showed Sarah Jane into the room first as Wilfred took off after Jack to make sure the Captain was alright. He didn't look very alright, but Wilfred knew that the Captain would never do anything to hurt the Doctor. He didn't understand all the strangeness of their being two Jacks and time travel and crossing into each other's spaces or whatever it was that had been done, but he knew he would only ever have done it to help the Doctor. He must have felt horrible about all of this.

"Oh no?" Sarah Jane had listened to what Martha had said, but listening and then seeing were two totally different things. The Doctor was lying flat on the bed. He had no pilled under his head and only one under his leg to keep that elevated though until they were happy with his blood pressure they could not make it too difficult to get blood up to his toes and past the breaks or they could cause an issue. He had a tube taped to the side of his face. It snaked into his mouth and down into his throat. It was linked to the ventilator that clicked and then wheezed. Bellows within the machine went up and down and pumped oxygen enriched air into his lungs. His complexion was totally colourless. IT was as if he'd been drained and he was a soft grey lilac colour. Martha was relieve to see that the bluish tint to his lips had gone, but she still wasn't happy. When the bloods came back from the lab they would probably give him the first part of his blood transfusion, but they didn't want to do it because the haemostatic cleanser would just destroy the new blood cells as well and not the toxins that it was supposed to be focusing on.

His chest was bared. He had a sheet over him just covering his left leg and across his hips, but there were tubes coming out from under that too. A cloudy bronzed fluid was in the tube and was collecting in a bag. It looked like strained tea. His right leg was not covered with the sheet. The cast ran from his hip right down to behind his toes. It only ran at the front and back of his leg for a part of the space between his fully cast knee and his fully cast ankle. In the gaps at the side of his leg there were metal pins. There of them that went right into the skin and out the other side. There was a bit of blood on one of the holes where the pin was actually stabbed into his skin. That was set on a brace so that the pins were held equal distance apart and fixed the breaks in his leg. It looked totally gruesome, yet quite high tech with the angle adjustable joints on each of the pin ends so a perfect alignment could be maintained. He had drips going into each arm now. They had no choice but to carry on using the veins.

"Doctor Jones? I need to give him the next dose," Anita advised. Martha nodded. She and Sarah Jane watched as Anita drew 10ml of the bright green fluid and injected it in through one of the canola. For some reason Sarah Jane expected there to be an immediate change in his appearance but he didn't move except for the rise and fall of his chest as the ventilator breathed for him.

"We are doing everything we can," Martha assured Sarah Jane. She nodded. She knew that they would it just didn't seem right. The day before she'd been joking with Jack on the way in about how much chaos the Doctor would be causing only to find out that he hadn't just cracked a bone in his leg but totally messed it up, to now him looking more dead than alive. He still had gel pads stuck to his chest in a strange symmetrical pattern. There were to prevent the skin from being burned by the electricity of the defibrillator. They'd not peeled them off yet so they obviously weren't convinced he was out of danger yet. As they were there Anita did another strip test with a drop of the Doctor's blood. She waited 30 seconds and then compared the strip. It remained the same purple black.

"You need to get better" Sarah Jane whispered to the Doctor as she leant over him and kissed him on the cheek. "Is he colder than normal?"

"Yes, he is, he's not maintaining his body temperature. We've got him lying on a blanket set to the right temperature and we hope he will pick back up as we get rid of the toxins in the blood stream," Martha advised.

"Oh, he'll be fine," Sarah Jane stated deciding to go for absolute positivity. "Won't he?"

"I hope so," Martha confirmed. "The next few hours will tell us more, but there isn't much you can do here now."

"I need to get home for Luke," Sarah Jane agreed. She didn't might have asked him to go and stay at Clyde's but there wasn't much she could do here and if she went home and was not with Luke then she'd just be even more frantic with worry. Everyone who knew the Doctor well, who was associated with him knew that one day danger would come for them, or for him, and that it could be serious, but it was not supposed to be like this. Not from falling off a ladder and an adverse reaction to medications?

"Do you want me to arrange a driver?" Martha asked her.

"No, I've got my car here. I said I'd give Wilf a lift back as well. He's phoned Donna and told her not to bother picking him up, that he is visiting an old friend that stopped by. She'll probably think it is one of the bridge club," Sarah Jane offered. "So there is no danger to her."

"What is Mickey doing?"

"I'm not sure. He's assisting Major Starkey at the moment. I'm not sure he knows how sick the Doctor is."

"I'll update him in a little while," Martha offered. "The Doctor is stable and Anita is watching everything so while I don't think we can relax and put our feet up and he's still very poorly. The immediate critical danger is over," Martha tried to assure Sarah Jane. His hearts were beating their own steady rhythm again and for now that was the hope that Martha clung on to. She'd lost patients, lost patients on that same day, but to lose the Doctor? It was more than losing a patient wasn't it? It was losing a very good friend, losing a unique being who was the last of his kind, and perhaps losing that little bit of hope the Doctor brought with him.

"I will get Wilfred to come in," Sarah Jane commented. She felt quite ill herself with the Doctor like that and she found herself wanting to get home to her son. To hug him and hold him until he squirmed with an exasperated 'Mum?'. She'd spoil him, cook him his favourite tea, and indulge his tales of what he had been up to on his own all day. She'd do all she could for Luke that she wanted to do for the Doctor.

"Oh my word, you poor boy," Wilfred commented as he went into the room. Martha was waiting to explain anything he wanted to know, but he'd seen his wife on a ventilator and life support. He knew the tubes and wires that looked like they were invading his tissues were assisting and sustaining him even if he did not know, or want to know, what each individual component did.

"Have the scans of his leg been done yet to make sure it is still okay?" Wilfred asked Martha. He tenderly ran his hand across the white plaster of the cast just above his knee. He didn't really know where else he could touch him. When his wife had been hooked up like this her skin had become so paper thin that she was bruising and tearing with the slightest of pressures. He looked at his fingertips and saw that they had a smear of damp white dust on them.

"The cast isn't quite dry yet," Martha announced.

"Oh Lord, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You've not done any damage. It is just why your fingers are white," Martha commented. She saw Wilfred hold his hand awkwardly as if he didn't know what he was supposed to do with him. "You can touch him," Martha assured him. "As long as you don't start playing with the equipment you can touch him. If he has any awareness at all then I think it will give him some comfort, and, he is going to need as much of that as he can get."

"Oh, I'm not sure what an old man like me can do for him," Wilfred sighed.

"He loves you and he looks up to you," Martha advised Wilfred surprised he didn't realise that.

"He looks up to me? Don't be ridiculous."

"He does," Martha assured him and then she chuckled. "He does what he is told when you're around and the difference in him when you got here compared to before you did was quite noticeable. I don't think he wants to risk letting you down. It is nice to see actually. Normally we're all the ones trying to be brave for him. He tries to be brave for you. I hope that you will be able to explain spending some more time here without it causing you any difficulties with Donna. I know it must be hard after what happened to her, but she was truly brilliant, Wilfred. She really was. She put him in his place and he tended to listen to her. I think there is that in you somehow as well," Martha commented. She took Wilfred's hand and smiled with an empathetic understanding and then popped his hand back down on the Doctor's wrist as it rested limply on the mattress at his side.

"You'll be alright, son, I promise," Wilfred commented and rubbed his arm. "You will be alright."

"Jack?" Mickey came running along the corridor toward the recovery room. Jack was waiting for Wilfred to come out so he could go back in and resume his vigil. He was not going to leave that man's side until he woke up and was recovered from the mess he'd caused with the cocktail of drugs from different time zones. He should have known. He should have listened to his tutors back in the Time Agency Academy that had told him incursions could have unexpected results even if everything is deemed safe it should still not be done because it was unsafe. He should have listened, but then what was the alternative. Listen to the Time Lord screaming for hours until he could go into surgery?

Mickey could see that Jack looked like the world was ending and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was leaning against the wall, slumped against it, with one foot cocked up behind him with the thick sole of his boot against the plasterwork. They were up toward the hold now and there were some bullet holes and chinked bits where the plaster blocks had been damaged during the fight with the Harlequin. His head was bowed and his arms were crossed across his middle as if he was protecting himself or hurting. He looked like he was miles away, miles or centuries, like with the Doctor it was never entirely sure which.

"Jack? What happened?" Mickey asked softly. "Ethan told me something has gone wrong with the surgery and that I should come and make sure you're okay?"

"That I'm okay?" Jack shook his head in disbelief at that idea. He wasn't the one fighting for his life. God, please, let him still be fighting for it and not giving up on it.

"Yeah, are you?"

"No?" Jack very nearly broken. "He's in a bad way, Mick. A real bad way. His hearts stopped and everything."

"But how? What happened?"

"It was the drugs. The drugs I got for him. They reacted badly with the anaesthetic and it almost killed him. Now he's got to have treatment to cleanse it all out of his blood stream and it's going to make him really sick. It's like they're putting bleach into his veins," Jack worried. He went on to explain to Mickey about the haemostatic cleanser and how it was indiscriminate and the risk of solids forming in his kidneys and urine. Mickey stood at the wall beside Jack and listened. He could hear the man's pain in every word as he tormented himself over what had happened.

"How long is it going to be until he is awake?"

"I don't know. A few hours at least I should think."

"Then, why don't you come and get something to eat?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Jack argued. It was a definite final word from him and Mickey patted him gently on the shoulder. He could tell he was not going to go anywhere. When Wilfred went out Mickey popped in for a moment, but he didn't stay long. He just remained at the Time Lord's bedside long enough to tell him that he was not allowed to go anywhere either. Then he went back out so Jack could go in and resume his vigil at the Doctor's bedside.

Martha ensured that Anita remained monitoring the Doctor medically and with Jack there as well she knew there was very little else they could do but wait. She had a whole hospital to run now. In total there had been 23 dead and she had 5 critically injured, not including the Doctor who was now on that list. She had 8 other patients who had serious injuries and would not be discharged within the next 24 hours and she had 7 others who were likely to spend the night with them either because of their injury, or, because it was taking them so long to get round to giving relatively minor injuries the treatment they needed.

"Gerry." Martha noted how tired her young medic was looking. He had surgical scrubs on still and was doing some of the basic cleaning, debridement, and stitching of wounds that had not caused significant internal injury. "How are you doing? Have you eaten since we came out from the Doctor?"

"Not yet. I've just got to take Private Briars into surgery and then once he is done that is it for a while. Doctor Carter has taken Sergeant Roberts in and Doctor Laynes has got Arthur Mayne. They are the last three initial surgeries required. We're utilising all the surgical space now."

"Okay, good."

"Colonel Mace has been asking how it has gone with the Doctor," Gerald advised. "I wasn't sure what to say and just said that you'd go down and talk to him about it shortly," Gerald offered and then winced. "Sorry."

"That's okay." Martha rubbed his shoulder. "I will go and speak to him. He's got Anita and Jack with him in there. What are you taking Private Briars in for?"

"He's got a wound that needs to be tidied up. No apparent nerve or major blood vessels involved, but it is a 9 inch slash through his calf so I need to put some internal stitches in and then clean him up. I think it is going to be too jagged to staple so I might have to put long stitches in and then get plastics involved. I will see how it goes," Gerald advised.

"Who is going in with you?"

"Carole and Lacey," Gerald advised.

"Are you okay with it?"

"Yeah, I'm only doing it under a local. I just want him in the theatre and sedated because he's scared of needles and he'll need to be on his front," Gerald advised.

"When you have finished with him I need you to take twenty minutes and then come to find me," Martha insisted.

"Yes, ma'am," Gerald commented.

Martha walked down to the first ward. Ward one had patients who had been operated on or who did not need surgery. There were normally eight beds in there but this time there were only seven. One of the beds with the occupant still in it had been taken into a different ward as they tried to get the hospital into a sense or order.

"How are you feeling now, Lynn?" Martha asked. She'd had surgery according to her chart and was resting comfortably. She was probably going to be discharged that evening, but because she had a bullet wound in her leg so would have to stay off that for a few days to allow it to heal and she had a wound in her arm that meant she'd be unable to use crutches it was going to be hard. Her boyfriend had gone back on duty, but Martha was sure he'd assist her where necessary and they would issue her with a wheelchair for a couple of days until she could start walking on her leg again.

Martha went around the ward. She chatted with some of the patient's and she looked at all of their charts. She was just about ready to move into the next ward to continue her round when Father Henry came in.

"Doctor Jones?" He beckoned her out of the room. "I'm sorry to intrude, Doctor, but Mr and Mrs Rigby have arrived. I have shown them into the new relatives' area, but they are anxious for news on their son."

"Okay, thank you. Has his girlfriend arrived?"

"No, not yet."

"Okay," Martha knew that she could not delay seeing his parents. She had a particular concern about his girlfriend and the amount of stress the news was going to put on her because she was pregnant. It might be easier to talk to his parents first. She hated doing this part of her job. Martha called into her office first and donned a clean white coat. She checked her appearance in a small mirror on the back of the door, not through vanity, but because she needed to appear professional and presentable. She wasn't looking too great, but she didn't have any blood, mucus, sick, or other bodily fluids on her face. That was probably about as good as it was going to get.

Martha took a deep breath and made her way over to the staff room that had been turned into the relatives' room. There was a tall burly man with a greying moustache and hair that had been cropped to the skin to minimise the effect male patterned baldness. A slightly petite blond woman about the same size as Martha was clutching onto the large man's arm. They both looked at Martha when she went in with an expectant regard. All they had been told was that Blue had been hurt. They expected he'd broken an ankle or something idiotic playing rugby as he'd been planning that afternoon. They were unsure why they'd not just been taken through to see him.

"I'm Doctor Martha Jones, Medical Director for UNIT. I have been overseeing the care of your son," Martha advised them.

"Where is he? What has he done to himself this time? Rugby again was it?" his father asked, there was almost a degree of amusement in his voice masking the concern of a father too worried to think what had happened and why they had been shown into a room and not to a bedside.

"Let the doctor speak, Leo," his wife commented.

"Why don't you both sit down," Martha suggested. They sat down as if that limitation had been entirely sobering. "I'm afraid there has been an incident here today. Private Rigsby, Blue, was involved in that incident and he has received some very serious injuries."

"An incident? On base? What kind of incident?"

"I'm afraid the details of it remain unconfirmed at this time. A full investigation will be conducted. All I can tell you at this point is that we were dealing with a hostile on site. The threat has been contained, but, your son was amongst the wounded. I am afraid he has received some very serious facial and head injuries," Martha tried to be fair to them. She always found this bit hard. How did she tell them that their son had no face left, was going to have significant brain damage, but wasn't likely to survive the night? He was not the young man that they knew as their son anymore."

"Head injuries?" His father did not miss what Martha had said.

"Yes, he is very sick. At the moment he is in an unresponsive coma state. I am very sorry, but, under the circumstances I think it would be wise for you to prepare for and to expect the worst," Martha advised Blue's parents.

"Is he going to die?!" his mother shrieked the question at Martha. And, there is was, his father: he was looking upward. Up towards the ceiling as if that would somehow help him not to break.

"He is very seriously injured," Martha commented. "The injuries he has received have been caused by a massive blow to his head and there has been significant damage to his brain tissues. He is unable to breathe for himself and he is not responding to external stimuli," Martha advised them trying not to baffle them with medical jargon, but not wanting to paint a picture where they could dare to hope for a miracle.

"Head injuries are unpredictable though, aren't they? You hear all the time about people making recoveries that are unprecedented," his father said as he moved into a denial.

"While in some types of head injury that is true. In Blue's case I'm afraid that it is not. The damage to his brain is physical and severe. It is highly unlikely that he will ever regain consciousness. If he does then the damage of his brain is going to be serious and very limiting. He has also lost the sight in both of his eyes," Martha commented. "I am sorry that I don't have better news for you. We are doing all that we can for him, but, as I said earlier, you need to be aware of how ill Blue is."

"Can we see him?"

"Yes, of course. I will take you in to see him. I have been unable to put him in a room on his own due to the volume of injuries we've seen today. I've got some privacy screens, but all of the patients in the HDU are currently unconscious," Martha advised.

Martha led Blue's parents into the HDU. Eddie was in there at the time. Martha led them to Blue's bedside and they pulled the curtains around his bed.

"Is there anything you want to ask?" Martha asked Blue's father. His mother was clinging to the rail at the side of Blue's bed as if it was all that was keeping her on her feet. His father shook his head in response to the question. "I will be just outside, take as long as you need. Let Eddie know when we can talk again and I will answer anything that I can," Martha assured him. "Eddie will be able to answer any questions that might arise in the meantime."

"Thank you," Blue's father acknowledged. Martha left the HDU as she heard Blue's mother wail in anguished despair. Eddie would assist them in their grief. She was the medical direction, she had to be a bit removed even if her heart was breaking for Blue and for his family.

It was thirty minutes before Blue's father came to speak to Martha. His mother remained at his bedside. "Mr. Rigsby?" Martha indicated toward a seat. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thank you, your nurse, Eddie. She made some tea."

"Good," Martha acknowledged.

"What happened here today, Doctor Jones. I don't want to hear any confidential bullshit. My son has been injured. I want to know what happened," he told Martha. "And, where is Colonel Mace in all of this? Shouldn't he be down here talking to us as well? He should be present."

"Unfortunately Colonel Mace has also been injured. He is in a serious but stable condition at the moment," Martha advised him. "You son was attacked by a hostile alien that was transported to this base for examination and autopsy. I have no further information to give you and the press statement is suitably vague. I am sorry," Martha commented. "A full investigation will be carried out and statements will be given. I know that does not help at the moment, but I'm sorry that knowing the exact circumstances of Blue's injuries will not help him either. I need to be very honest with you about Blue's prognosis for recovery," Martha told him.

"Okay."

"Stop me at any time and ask questions," Martha prompted and he nodded. "Blue's skull has some very significant fractures, especially at the front and to the left side of his head. The fractures have caused a depression of the bone into the brain tissues, but there are also bone fragments that have become embedded in your son's brain. Blue is being kept in a medical coma at the moment. The main reason for this is that he has had several very serious convulsions. Blue is not breathing for himself and he is not responding. Now, he is not brain dead, but the brain activity we have been able to measure is very limited and sporadic and has been causing the convulsions. He is unable to sustain himself without mechanical assistance. If we turned off the machines Blue would very quickly pass away. A percentage of his problems arise from swelling and bruising to his brain. Unfortunately we can't say how much, but, as that goes down there may be some slight improvement in his condition, but, the major damage to his brain tissues is physical and that cannot be repaired. He does need surgery to remove the bone fragments from his brain tissues, but he is not strong enough to survive that at the moment."

"Doctor Jones," Blue's father started matter of factly. "I know you are trying to choose your words carefully to save me from hurt, but this is my son you're talking about. Please, just tell me. Is Blue going to live?"

"I don't know. Every hour that passes without him having another fit or his condition worsening means he will be growing stronger and closer to the point where we can operate. He could suffer from any number of complications. If he were to suffer another bleed into his brain it could be catastrophic. If he had another convulsion it could be as serious. If he does survive then the effects of his injuries are going to lead him to require full care for the rest of his life. He may remain dependent on the machine to breathe. He has no swallowing reflect. At the moment we're providing him nutrient through the drips he has, but if he does survive the night and the initial surgery we will have to put a nasal feeding line in. If his swallowing reflex does not return then for long term care a tube would be put directly to his stomach to feed him."

"What do you think is going to happen?"

"In my personal medical opinion, I don't think Blue is going to regain consciousness," Martha admitted to his father. "I fear that if we reduce the medication he is on then he will convulse and that is a potentially fatal complication. What we cannot do is leave Blue as he is indefinitely. If he regains some strength overnight then he has some very serious surgeries to get through. Not just to remove fragmented bone from his brain tissues but to reconstruct his facial bones and to graft tissue over the extensive wounds he has," Martha advised. "The damage we could do removing the fragments of bone from his brain tissue could cost him his life, but leaving them is not an option. The risk of infection is incredibly high. I am waiting for a neurologist to join the team on secondment. They are due to arrive tomorrow morning. Until then there is nothing we can do for Blue. He is too weak and if he were to decline then it would be hard to keep him alive."

"What are his chances of survival?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know how he is still alive," Martha admitted. "I can't give you odds on him surviving, but I can say he will not recover. I am sorry, but the Blue we know was killed and if he does survive then he's not going to be able to live any kind of independent life."

"Blue carries a donor card," his father stated quietly as if mentioning it was something that was taboo when his son was fighting for his life. "I don't want to think on it, but he has said that and he is quite adamant that if he does die and his organs are in a viable condition that they should be donated. His mother and I both agreed to follow his wishes if it ever came to it. I just never thought I would have to. If he starts to deteriorate are you going to do all you can to save him?"

"Yes," Martha confirmed without hesitation. "We will continue to do what we can for him, I just don't think we are going to be able to do enough to save him."

"Thank you for being so honest. Are you able to look at his wish to donate his organs? It is very important to him. His younger sister was an organ recipient," Blues father commented. "If he doesn't make it then I think he'd want to make sure that his organs went to save lives."

"I will ensure that if the time comes that we will follow that. We will have to also discuss it with your wife."

"Yes, of course. She's not ready to acknowledge that as a possibility."

"It is understandable. I am only sorry that I don't think we can do enough for him."

"The other patients in the room with Blue were also hurt today?"

"Yes."

"So, it has been a very serious incident? Have any of Blue's friends been killed?"

"There have been deaths. Until we are able to advise all of the next of kin I can't release that information. We contacted you and the families of the other patient's in Blue's room as a priority over those that have been killed. There are still a few families we've not got in touch with yet."

"Did you contact us first so we get a chance to say goodbye before it is too late?"

"I'm sorry." Martha confirmed with a slight nod of her head.


	45. Chapter 45

"I know it is not an ideal time but one of Blue's friends has been instrumental in dealing with all that has been going on today. He is a fine young man but he is very worried about Blue. He has asked to see him, but I have not been able to allow it until I've had your permission."

"Ethan?" Blue's father asked.

"Yes," Martha acknowledged.

"Is he here? He's not hurt too is he?"

"No, he's not been hurt."

"That is a relief. He is Blue's best friend. Blue is always talking about him. If he wants to see Blue then he can. He should be considered family," Blue's father insisted.

"Thank you. I am sure that Ethan will be pleased to hear that even in the circumstances," Martha commented.

"Can you get in touch with him?"

"I can ask him to report here," Martha confirmed. She got on the phone to control and asked them to get Ethan to report to her office. She hoped he wasn't in the middle of anything.

Within two minutes there was a knock on the door to Martha's office. "Come in," Martha instructed.

"Doctor Jones? I was called to attend and… Leo? I, um, sorry, I mean, Mr Rigsby?"

"Leo," Blue's father got up and went to shake Ethan's hand but then he changed his mind and pulled him a bit more robustly than expected into a bear hug.

"I'm sorry about Blue," Ethan squeaked. He'd been put off guard. He's been working and he'd got called to Doctor Jones's office not to the relatives' room and he thought he was going to get another errand to run or something, but Blue's dad was sat in there.

"Nat is in with him," Leo advised. "Doctor Jones said you have asked to come and see him. Come down with me now, huh?"

"I should leave you and Nat with him. I can go and see him later," Ethan advised feeling very sick about going to see Blue properly.

"There may not be a later, son," Leo told him. "Come and see him now. Don't live to regret a delay," Leo insisted. He nodded his thanks to Martha and went to take Ethan down to the HDU. It surprised Martha that Blue's father was being so matter of fact, but she guessed it was a way to cope. Their son was in the military and it was always a risk. He must have thought about al the ways it could happen, all the things that could and how he'd deal with them. An alien attack in their own base was probably not one of the ways he'd thought about it.

"Doctor Jones?" Ethan hesitated for a moment.

"Yes, Ethan?"

"How is the Doctor?"

"Stable for now and getting some treatment. He's not very well at the moment. We will talk afterward. He is stable though," Martha assured him and Ethan nodded.

"Okay, Colonel Mace was asking," Ethan advised her.

"I will go and talk to him now," Martha offered. She waited until Ethan had gone with Blue's father back to the HDU. The Doctor would have had another shot of drugs and another test of his blood so she went to see if there was any change. There wasn't, not a positive one anyway. His blood oxygen levels had fallen and a quick density test had indicated he was losing blood cells and becoming more anaemic. It was still too early to give him any blood so they just had to hope he'd continue to maintain himself.

Martha headed down toward the East Wing again. She hoped that Colonel Mace had got off to sleep and she'd not have to explain how they had almost killed the Doctor. When she got into the room the Colonel was awake. He had a bit more colour to him and was sitting up slightly against pillows rather than the back of the bed so it was his shoulders that were raised rather than his spine through his hips. He had his own tin mug with him. She knew it was his because of the chipped paint and dents in it. Not from live action, but because of the number of times he'd flung it across the office, not in anger at personnel, but usually at paperwork.

"That better not be coffee that you're drinking there?" Martha was surprised he'd go against medical advice when everything was going to Hell, but she knew it was coffee in his cup. She could see that it was. "What did I tell you? Is it not enough that all Hell is breaking loose, but when we've actually got you patched up that you then go against instruction and put yourself at even more risk?" Martha despaired. "I don't know why I bother. Do you want to bleed to death because that is what will happen when your blood pressure goes to high," Martha scolded him.

"It's decaff," Colonel Mace advised her.

"Decaff?"

"Yes. Marion made it to see what it is like."

"And, how is it?"

"Pretty awful, but, hot and wet."

"Right, okay, um, that is okay then," Martha back tracked wincing slightly. "Sorry."

"I do listen sometimes," Colonel Mace assured her. "And, I don't really want to bleed to death."

"Where is Marion?"

"She is just getting some air for five minutes. She will be back presently. How is everything out there?"

"Blue Rigsby's parents have just arrived. They are in with him now. I expect other relatives will be arriving very soon. The last emergency surgeries are taking place. There will be a few secondary surgeries to carry out over the next few days but nothing more that can't wait until the morning. That will give some of them a chance to recoup some of their strength and the medical team a chance to rest. We're going to have to adjust and to restock everything up. I'll be putting some emergency supply orders in."

"Make sure you utilise Major Starkey for all you need. She can have people shifting stock and things for you. You don't need to do it," Colonel Mace assured her.

"Major Proctor should not be too long. I'll make sure he is aware of all the things we need," Martha commented. "It might be easier to wait rather than have to explain it to Major Starkey. I know Major Proctor can be a stickler and tends to concentrate on the military aspects more than I like," Martha commented thoughtfully. "But, I am sure that in the circumstances he will be accommodating. Major Starkey is doing alright, but Jack is not likely going to be on form or happy to spend too much time working with her for a while."

"Talking about waiting and about Captain Jack, I was expecting my roomy back quite some time ago?" Colonel Mace commented.

"Well, your roomy decided that he was going to get into trouble and cause us to work even harder for our money today."

"Where is he?"

"He is still in the surgical recovery area, but, I have turned that into a private extension of the HDU."

"Intensive care? Is he alright, or no, scrap that if he's in intensive care. What happened?"

"It seems he has had a reaction to the mix of drugs that he had for the pain relief and the anaesthetics that we used. I almost lost him," Martha admitted. "He's in a pretty bad way if I'm honest. He's having some treatment with a Time Lord blood cleanser. I am hoping it is going to work but he's had 3 doses of it and it has had no testable result yet. The treatment in itself also sounds pretty brutal so it is going to make him sicker before he gets better. At the moment he is ventilated and unconscious. Once he's had a full course of the treatment he will need to have dialysis. Depending on how he is then you might get your roomy back, if not then, it probably won't be until the morning."

"I am sure he will be fine."

"Both his hearts stopped," Martha commented.

"At the same time?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that like he's dead?"

"Yeah," Martha nodded. "And, I'm worried about his renal system. I don't think it's working properly. It doesn't look like it coped with the drugs it was all clogged up and that was before we started with this treatment that is so severe that he is supposed to have dialysis and it is going to cause him kidney stones. He's really quite poorly."

"Come here," Colonel Mace carefully put his tin mug of decaff coffee down. He raised his arms to Martha. She very carefully gave him a hug. He knew that she would feel responsibility for all the people in the hospital but with the Doctor there it was going to be worse for her as that was not just her job as the UNIT medic it was more than that. "He will be alright?" Colonel Mace's statement was more a question by the time he'd said it.

"I hope so," Martha couldn't confirm one way or another. "It is going to take him time. The treatment I am giving him came from the TARDIS, but it's not something I've come across before. Jack called it a haemostatic cleanser but the only haemostatic products I'm aware of are the blood replacements that we use to limit the effect of traumatic bleeds such as yours. This isn't something I really know about and I can't ask him because he's totally out of it. I was so worried he was going to die of a broken leg."

"How is his leg?"

"The surgery actually went well, but he started to decline so we didn't get the full cast on him straight away. When he received some medication to take him out of heart failure he had a seizure. I still need to check the scan of his leg. Anita got it sorted. She's not rung through and said there is an obvious issue with it, so hopefully it is okay. I also think I broke one of his ribs. He's fully ventilated at the moment so it won't be an issue for him, but it is going to be sore when he regains consciousness. I honestly don't know how unwell he is going to be or how quickly he will recovery from this. The TARDIS warned he will get anaemic and that he could develop some mineral deposits in his renal system. She says that he will pass them. Now in a human passing kidney stones it can be about as painful as it gets, or, it can be pretty easy. Anaemia can be serious and have some serious on going effects, so it is just going to be a case of monitoring him and seeing how he does."

"You're worried about him aren't you?"

"Yeah," Martha confirmed. "If he doesn't start to pick up with the medication then I am not sure what we can do for him."

"He's a fit man though isn't he? He's starting from a good place to heal?"

"Is he? He's not been eating enough that is certain. He's been travelling on his own and that is never a very good idea. He's worried about weird prophecy things and he's worn out," Martha sighed. "I'm not sure he is in good general health though he'd not tell me if he wasn't. If he's been travelling on his own then he's not had much of a chance to rest because he's not had a human on board insisting they get at least a couple of nights to sleep every week and actually eating on a daily basis. Lord knows what he is like when he is on his own."

"Then it is just as well he's got you then," Colonel Mace advised. "And, if we're talking about people looking after themselves have you eaten the other half of your sandwich yet?"

"Not yet."

"Then you need to do so. I'm not going to be as ridiculous as to suggest that you go and rest because I know that you won't," Colonel Mace advised. "But at this point your team are working on everything. I know that you have ensure they have all taken breaks. You need to lead by the example Martha. You are the glue that is holding them together and you look like you're ready to drop, so, go and grab a drink and a sandwich and come back here and sit with me while you have it. I want to make sure you eat," Colonel Mace advised.

"Sir, I…"

"Martha, I'm not telling you to do it as the base commander. I'm asking you to do it as your friend and as your patient. You want me to rest and relax and to remain calm?"

"You have to."

"Then you have to eat and to stop for five minutes. Just five minutes, Martha."

"If I stop I may not get going again," she admitted on a tired laugh.

"Then sit for ten," Mace insisted. "Please?"

"Okay," Martha knew when not to argue. She went to go and get the sandwich she'd half eaten earlier but it had been replaced with another whole one. She sat with the Colonel and ate. He didn't talk to her about the injured, the dead, the Doctor, or the Harlequin. He talked to her about Tenerife, Gran Canarias and then Morocco. Beaches, sand, and sunshine.

Martha sat with the Colonel for ten minutes and had something to eat, but as soon as Marion returned she made her excuses and went back down to the recovery room. It wasn't a large hospital area by any means but the amount she'd walked up and down over the last couple of days she felt like her feet were going to catch fire they were so hot in her boots. She longed to take them off, but she knew if she did that she'd not want to put them back on for a week. "So, how is the scan of his leg looking?"

"Like an incomplete jigsaw," Anita advised and put it up on the screen for Martha to look at. "James came in and had a look at it. He thinks it is okay to leave as is for now. He was happy with the surgery site but a bit worried about his ankle. He said it's not worth taking the cast off for it as he's still got blood flow to his toes."

"James came back in?"

"Yes."

"I thought he'd have gone off duty."

"He's been in with Jamie," Anita advised.

"He wasn't in there when I went in earlier. I must have just missed him."

"Ed said he's been in there for a couple of hours. He left when Blue's parents arrived. They are still in there too."

"Have any more relatives arrived?"

"Cole's wife is here," Anita advised. "Father Henry dealt with her and Doctor Carter gave the medical brief. Cole seems to be responding quite well to the new treatment. His temperature has come down a little and it looks like we've got a grip on the infection rather than it having a grip on him."

"I'll go in and see them next door in a little while. How is the Doctor's body temperature?" Martha asked. "Has it come up at all?"

"It's 14.7 degrees."

"Still low but better than what it was. Has he had another dose of the haemostatic fluid?" Martha checked.

"He's due another dose in a few minutes or so," Anita offered.

"Three minutes," Jack clarified. He was making sure he got them at the 30 minute intervals as prescribed by the TARDIS.

"Let's get it into him then," Martha suggested going to get the medication.

"In three minutes," Jack insisted and showed Martha that he was timing it on his wrist computer. "That might be where we went wrong, Martha. He's a Time Lord. Timing matters to a Time Lord doesn't it? The TARDIS said he needs to receive it 30 minutes apart, so let's get it right."

"Okay," Martha humoured Jack. They waited the three minutes and then gave the Doctor the fourth dose of the drugs. They waited five minutes during which time Martha checked all the drops, electrodes, the intubation tubing seal, his pupil response, the catheter tube, his urine output and then the medical chart. Anita didn't say anything about it all being checked by her on a regular basis as she knew Martha needed to be hands on.

Martha took the drop of blood from the Doctor's fingertip and put it to a test strip. The first three tests were set for a comparison and they had all been rear black in colour. As this one developed it seemed to be redder and it formed a purple. It was a deep royal purple but it was not black and it was on the scale.

"That means it is working, right?" Anita checked.

"Yes, thank goodness," Martha confirmed. "It's going in the right direction."

"But, that is the fourth dose of the drugs." Jack didn't sound too happy. "There are only three more doses left. That will last two hours. We need to get stocked up because he is going to need it longer, so where have I gone?" Jack asked. Anita looked at him peculiarly at the question. "The other, Jack," he clarified. "He needs to get back with the working vortex manipulator so we can get it for him. Why hasn't he come back yet? For all he knows the Doctor is still dying because he left before we got the stuff from the TARDIS," Jack worried. "If we are only just seeing a change now then how much longer is it going to take?"

"Hopefully it will be quite quick. We don't know how far off the end of the scale he was when we started or how much damage the drugs have done to his systems," Martha reminded Jack. "Let's give it another 15 minutes and do another test strip. I hope we will see a more rapid progression now he is on the scale. It worries me how much toxin there was in his system and how much damage that might have done to him," Martha admitted. "How much O2 is he getting now?"

"He is up to 75% volume," Anita advised. "I turned it up again because his blood saturation levels fell. He responded, but it has fallen a little since then as well."

"Let's got a blood sample over to the lab. I want a full blood count done on him," Martha instructed.

Anita drew a sample and then took it to the lab herself. It had been cleared out and was now operational so that medical tests could be conducted as a priority. It was vital that they could check how people like Cole and the Doctor were doing with regular blood testing. Martha remained in the room with the Doctor as they were not quite ready to trust him in a room without a medic on immediate standby.

While she was waiting to get the blood count and to do another test strip Martha bit the bullet and did a full scan of the Doctor's chest. There were several deep purple spherical bruises across his sternum and the scan showed there was bleeding down at the bone level as well. The sternum was a very blood rich bone with a lot of marrow within it, so it was not surprising that it had bled a little the number of times that Martha had slammed needles right through the bone and into his hearts. She put the scan up on the monitor and then enlarged one section and then rotated it slightly to get a better view of the image taken.

"Is that a broken rib?" Jack checked with Martha.

"Yeah, it is," Martha confirmed. "I thought we may have got away with it when there is no obvious bruising over his actual rib cage," Martha commented. "The fracture appears to be quite a long way round toward the back rather than at the front." Martha moved the Doctor's left arm away from his side where it just laid limply and it revealed the mark of blood seeping into the tissues from the broken rib. It had not been caused by a blow so there was no real surface bruising. If the Doctor hadn't have been so slim it probably wouldn't have been visible at all.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Martha sighed and lightly rubbed the Doctor's side. "That is something else to hurt you for a while isn't it?"

"Is it from the CPR?"

"No, we didn't break anything then. It was using that double needled injection module," Martha advised. "It was pretty high powered. It is better to have a broken rib than to remain in heart failure though." She wondered how long it would be before the Doctor started to agree with her. The broken rib was just at the point where they would naturally go to hold him in order to help him turn or sit or when changing the bed or to bathe him so she was going to have to make sure that no one caused him additional pain or damage by grabbing him in that area. She got a gauze and a black marker and drew a large # on it to indicate that there was a fracture, then she taped it loosely over the Doctor's side where the broken rib was located.

"That isn't going to do much to support it?"

"No, but there isn't much in the way of visible bruising and I don't want to be hurting him unnecessarily by holding him there," Martha commented. "It will heal without issue but I don't want him hurt and this will make the nursing staff notice before they try to turn him or help him to sit up."

"I will have to watch it when I hug him too."

"Yes, you will," Martha agreed.

"He is going to be alright though, isn't he?" Jack checked. He still couldn't get it out of his head that he had hurt him. Really hurt him. He'd almost killed him and the drugs they were giving him to reverse the damage he had done were causing him additional new damages.

Martha moved round the bed and hugged Jack. He wrapped his arms around her. "He has got a difficult road to negotiate before he is going to be alright," Martha told Jack. "We need to take it a step at a time and see how he improves. I'm sure that he will…"

An alarm sounded in the adjacent room. It was in the HDU suite. Martha heard a woman wailing and screaming in distress. She imagined that the Colonel would be able to hear it all the way up in the East Wing, certainly anyone conscious on the wards was going to be able to hear it. It was a heart wrenching horrific wail.

"Go, I'll watch him," Jack insisted. "Anita will be back any second." Jack would call someone the minutes there was a movement in any of the monitors. He wasn't going to be standing on ceremony and watching to see if the Doctor equalised or anything. If there was even the tiniest of blips he was going to be hollering.

Martha ran into the HDU. The alarms were all going off around Blue Rigsby's bed. There were two nurses and Doctor Carter there and Martha stepped in to make it a team of four. Blue was obviously fitting on the bed, but only his left side was twitching. His right remained entirely still. That was definitely not a good sign. The ventilator was alarming because it couldn't get any air in and his heart monitor was showing that his heart rate had accelerated to 237 beats per minute but his blood pressure was dropping.

"He's maxed out on benzodiazepine already," Doctor Carter advised Martha.

"Let him see if he can ride it out," Martha instructed. They waited for a couple of minutes but it was clear that Blue was not going to stop convulsing without some heavy intervention. "Okay, let's give him another 10ml of benzodiazepine and let's give him a 25mg diazepam plug." Martha hoped that would calm him down.

"We've lost the veins," Doctor Carter worried when he couldn't find a place to put the drugs in. His circulatory system was collapsing.

"Okay, get him on his side for me," Martha instructed. She got the syringe with the drugs in from Doctor Carter and removed the needle. She carefully inserted it into his anus and slowly injected the drugs into his back passage before putting the small diazepam pessary in there to be absorb and to prevent the other drugs from just running out of him.

"He is in cardiac arrest," Eddie stated when a large monitor started to alarm. They dropped him onto his back again and they worked on him for twenty more minutes. They tried to get his heart started and to get him to come back. The sound of his mother wailing and crying in the corridor served to make them try longer than they might have otherwise. They knew all hope was gone, but none of them wanted to be the one to raise it, or to mention an unspoken sense of relief that he was gone and wound not be trapped in a faceless, mindless shell for the rest of his life. He was gone.

Martha snapped her gloves off. They gently eased him so he was flat and straighter on the bed and then they pulled the sheet up over the paddle marks on his chest. His entire head and face were covered in bandages and for an insane moment Martha wondered why his parents had not questioned if it was actually Blue or not. Martha lifted his arms out from under the sheet so that the undeniable tattoo on his forearm was visible. It was a blue vine curling around a picture of a naked woman, the vine leaves covering her intimate areas. Martha had teased him that he would live to regret that having plastered on his arm. She sighed as she ran her finger over it. He'd hadn't.

Martha took a breath and went out into the corridor. She had feared that Blue's girlfriend had not got there in time but she was pleased to see she was sitting there sobbing, if pleased was ever going to be the right word. Relieved maybe, that she was not too late to see her fiancé.

"I am very sorry," Martha commented with a shake of her head. "There was nothing more that we could do," Martha stood and watched as Blue's mother collapsed into Leo's arms and his girlfriend leant into them and was accepted into the embrace. Ethan had gone to get them drinks and as he came back along the corridor he saw the scene. He'd been all the way out to the standby point because Leo wanted to try one of the hot dogs that Blue always went on about.

"Ethan, love?" Martha went towards him, but he put the drinks down on the nearest windowsill by one of the side rooms and then he turned and ran.

"Doctor Jones?" Leo got her attention. "Allow him to go." He indicated toward Ethan and Martha nodded. She did not have much choice. He was light on his feet and gone.

"We spoke briefly about organ donation," Martha commented warily. Sometimes all the good intentions were banished when they were face with the shocked grief that a loved one had actually died. She hated that it was essential to discuss the matter in the height of that shock and grief. Their son had just died and she was going to ask them permission to transfer him to Royal Hope by air ambulance so that he could be cut up and have his bits sewn into other people. It was cruel.

"It was what Blue has always wanted. Ever since Leanne."

"We are not able to perform that kind of surgery here on base, but we work in conjunction with the transplant team at Royal Hope. If you will allow me I will get Blue transferred there and they will be able to determine if any of his organs remain viable for donation. I have already been in touch with the transplant coordinator and made them aware of Blue's request. I am very sorry, but if we are going to give them a chance to save his organs for transplant then we need to move him immediately."

"Can we go with him?"

"He is going to be transferred in one of helicopters and there will be no room for a passenger as we have to send a medic."

"But he's dead?"

"Yes, he is, but we need to try to keep his tissues alive so they are viable. I can arrange transport for you to the Royal Hope and put you in touch with the transplant coordinator. I will also arrange for Blue to be brought back here, or, to be sent somewhere else of your choice prior to the funeral arrangements being made."

"Thank you. We will have to discuss that of course, but I believe he would want to be brought back here to receive his honours with his comrades," Leo advised sensibly. Martha nodded. "Please go ahead and make the arrangements for his transfer."

"I will," Martha nodded. She went to her office and phoned through to control. They had transferred people to the Royal Hope to the transplant coordinator before. It was not a nice thing to do but it was sometimes comforting to know that a death is not a total waste. Martha just hoped that Blue's organs would still be viable. They would have to flush out the drugs so his liver and kidneys would probably be unusable but his heart and lungs might be okay. Time was of the essence though. Eddie knew what to do and so did the welfare team, so Martha put it in motion and then allowed her expert staff to continue with it. Freeing her to go and deal with other matters. She went back into the recovery room.

"Who was it?" Jack asked quietly.

"Blue Rigsby," Martha advised. "We couldn't save him this time. I need you to do something for me. Blue is being transferred to the Royal Hope to their transplant coordinator to see if they can use any of his organs in line with his family's wishes. I need to get him transferred as soon as I can. It is the last time that Ethan is likely to be able to see him now, but he has run off?" Martha advised Jack and looked at him apologetically.

"I will go and see if I can find him," Jack offered. He dropped a kiss to the Doctor's head and then hurried out to try to find Ethan so he could say goodbye to his friend before he was transferred out.


	46. Chapter 46

As Jack went to the exit from the East Wing he saw that Sarah Jane and Wilfred were preparing to leave. It was dark outside. Jack wasn't sure how that happened. It was insane. A whole day was gone in a blur and not it was half seven at night. Both Sarah Jane and Wilfred were apologetic about having to go, but the Doctor was responding to treatment now and Martha didn't think they would get much out of him until morning. Sarah Jane had to get back to Luke and Wilfred had to go too or he was going to have trouble explaining to Donna where he had been. Jack understood that they had to go. They both promised to be on the way back the minute the Doctor needed them and Jack assured them that he would keep them up to date with any changes in their condition. He was not going to be going anywhere so both Sarah Jane and Wilfred felt better that the Doctor had someone there with them outside of the medical team. Mickey was staying on site as well, but Sarah Jane got the impression that may have had more to do with a certain female doctor rather than the Time Lord one.

Jack couldn't stop for a long goodbye with them. He had to go and find Ethan or he would miss the chance to say goodbye to his friend, or at least have a fair choice as to whether he went and saw him before he went off to the Royal Hope. They would not be able to delay for his sake so Jack needed to get Ethan there as soon as possible. As he ran out of into the main yard out of the back of the East Wing and into the base there were only a few patrolling officers remaining.

"Have you seen Private Coates?" Jack asked one of them.

"Yes Sir, he ran off down that way. He seemed to be upset, Sir," the patrolling officer advised Jack, aware that the Captain was acting as number two. "He wouldn't stop when I called to him." The patrolling officer pointed down the main road into the base area. Despite being in London the UNIT base was one of the largest in the country, it extended into the old docks and there were areas that actually went underground down under the river as well. Ethan could have gone anywhere. How was Jack supposed to find him? He didn't know Ethan well enough to know where he was likely to go and he didn't know the base very well.

"Your radio network?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Does it have the capability of tracking a handset?" Jack asked wondering if he would be able to trace Ethan using the radios. All of the radios that they used at Torchwood as well as their earpieces and their phones had been fitted with the latest tracking technologies so they could find each other if they needed to.

"Not within the confines of the base, Sir."

"Oh, that's not much help is it? Could you possibly advise all your colleagues that I need to find Private Coates and if they see him to let me know where he is?"

"Yes, Sir, I will get on it. Is Ethan alright?"

"I hope he will be," Jack offered. "I just need to find him."

"Yes, Sir."

Jack jogged in the direction towards the main base. He had got a hundred yards along the road and had already passed three possible areas where he could have gone. He was just thinking that perhaps he should stay where he was until someone came through on the radio and directed him. He thought that Ethan might get in touch with him as he'd have been able to hear the radio traffic as well unless he'd turned his radio off. Jack decided to head back to the East Wing when he got a blinding flash of pain through his temples. It halted him and almost brought him to his knees. He got an immediate sense of apology. It was the TARDIS. Jack prayed that there wasn't something wrong with the Doctor. If there was he was going to have to go back to him and Ethan would not have a chance. The TARDIS was concerned though. There were men with guns outside here and people shouting and someone had been knocking on the door. Her Pilot wasn't there to protect her and Jack was the only one she could contact. She was sorry if she hurt him she was feeling rather ham fisted, not that she had fists, or would use fists unless in the protection of her Pilot and she had already failed him by allowing a ladder to fall. She forgot that Jack was human in his body even if his soul was tainted with forever.

Jack where knew the TARDIS was and he sprinted down towards her. He didn't know who it was that would be trying to break into her but he had a hunch that he would be solving two problems at once. The guards in warehouse 7 were trying to prevent Ethan from going in and were attempting to detain him. Ethan wasn't in the mood to be cooperative with them and was fighting them to get back to the door. It was shut and locked so he'd not get in anyway, but he had been banging on the doors with his fists so hard that he'd grazed his knuckles on the wood.

"Unhand him," Jack instructed.

"We received instruction that he is to be detained and he has been attempting to gain illegal access to the TARDIS, Sir. No one is allowed to enter."

"I am," Jack told them.

"You are affiliated with the Doctor, Sir."

"So is Private Coates," Jack advised. He turned to Ethan. "Do you still have the key?"

"I returned it to Doctor Jones."

"Then, you should know that no one can gain access to the TARDIS without permission or a key," Jack told him. "As the Doctor is fond of pointing out the entire assembled hoard of Genghis Khan tried and failed to gain access to the TARDIS. She doesn't really like people banging on her door, especially when the Doctor is not around, okay? She didn't like it at all, so, you're going to have to apologise to her," Jack explained to the Private. "And to me, she gave me a headache to let me know, but you can bang on the door as much as you want, Private. You're only going to end up peeing off the TARDIS and getting sore hands." Jack told him. He then turned back to the two soldiers in the area. "How about you two lads give us a minute?" Jack suggested calmly. The two soldiers didn't move initially. "That's an order."

"Sir!" Jack received a double salute from the two men and then then left the warehouse leaving Jack alone with Ethan.

"I'm sorry about Blue, kid," Jack offered quietly. Blue was about to fly into a tirade about how he was not a kid and that he wished everyone would stop calling him one and putting him down because of his age. He had proved himself time and time again and they still didn't take him seriously and they still belittled him because he was the youngest on the base. He sighed. It was not like that when Jack said it. It was said with affection and care, not with patronisation or to his detriment.

"Did Doctor Jones send you to find me?"

"Yes," Jack acknowledged and Ethan sighed. "Not because you're in trouble for running off." He assured the Private. "She needs you to know that Blue is being transferred to the Royal Hope to their transplant centre to see if any of his organs can be transplanted. As soon as the chopper is ready they will be going."

"He told me that is what he wanted," Ethan commented. "I asked him what he was telling me for." Ethan half laughed as he shook his head. "I didn't take him seriously."

"It isn't something you ever expect to happen. Not to you or to your friends, and I am sorry. It is hard when you lose a friend," Jack offered. Ethan looked at the Captain and could see that he knew what he was talking about. How many friends had the Captain lost? "Blue will be leaving in the next few minutes. If you want to go in and see him again before he goes then you need to hurry back now."

"I don't want to go and see him," Ethan advised. "Is that bad?"

"No, not if you're sure."

"It's not him anymore. Doctor Jones said he was no longer Blue the minute he got hit by the ghost. I'd rather remember him when he got up this morning," Ethan offered. "He will come back here for his burial won't he?"

"Yes, I think so," Jack confirmed.

"I will see him then."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay," Jack nodded and put his hand on Ethan's shoulder. "So, why did you come to the TARDIS?" He asked worried about the possible motives for it. "You saw what happened to the Doctor when I crossed a time line, you're not thinking about that?" he checked.

"I know that we can't go back in time and save Blue or stop the autopsy or anything like that from happening," Ethan assured Jack. "I just, I'm not even really sure why I came. I just thought I might feel better if I could see inside again. It is okay. I know that I can't and I'm not allowed, and I'm sorry. For banging on her door and for her giving you a headache. I just, I wanted to see inside. It makes me feel something, I'm not sure what it is. It is something that is not hurt and not sadness, but it almost is at the same time.

"Hope?" Jack checked.

"Maybe," Ethan offered. "Like anything is possible and that we're all on the same journey, it is just, well, maybe Blue had to get off before the rest of us," Ethan commented. "I know I should go back. I was doing some things for Major Starkey. I better get them done quickly. Major Proctor will be here soon. A lot of the older soldiers like him, but I don't and he hates me. I am not sure how much he will let me do. I'm not sure how much he will let you be involved either. He's not as flexible as Mace is."

"As long as nothing else arises it is just going to be the end of the clean-up and the medical stuff and the good thing about that is that it doesn't matter what Major Proctor says. It is what Martha says that matters," Jack reminded the Private. "I want to be able to spend time with the Doctor anyway and I know you do too."

"He is really sick now isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is, but the last test showed that he is starting to improve."

"Should we go back?"

"Are you sure you don't want to run back and see Blue before he goes?"

"Yeah."

"Then, how about we go back in five?" Jack fished in his trouser pockets for his TARDIS key and opened the door.

"Thank you," Ethan accepted as he stepped into the wondrous space within the TARDIS again. It was like being in the middle of the world of make believe. It made him feel like an enthralled child all over again listening to stories told to him by his grandfather before he passed away. Tales about myths and magic and impossible dreams.

"You need to tell her that you're sorry," Jack reminded him.

"I'm sorry I was banging on your door," Ethan commented feeling slightly silly about talking to the room he was standing in, but he received a gently warmth that seemed to make him glow from the inside out.

"When we know the Doctor is going to be alright I am going to come over here and spend some time trying to make her more comfortable." Jack indicated to the damaged section of the console and to how the ladder was still wedged. "You could come and help if you've got no other tasks to do. I am sure she would appreciate it and I know the Doctor would," Jack offered. Ethan nodded. He felt somewhat rejuvenated again. He was still desperately sad about Blue. Life was never going to be the same again. Blue slept in the bunk above his and they always chatted and played jokes on each other and helped each other out when needed. He'd not been able to help Blue out this time. Jack got a sense of emotional strength from the TARDIS and he realised she was doing the same for Private Coates. It was clear that not only did the Doctor like him, but the TARDIS did too. That was all the marks of a companion in the making. "You want to be an intelligence officer, right?" Jack checked.

"Yeah, eventually, when I finish my training."

"Maybe you should ask the Doctor to show you a few things first hand once he's fit."

"Nah, don't be daft!" Ethan exclaimed. "I can't do that!" He laughed at the idea of asking the Doctor to take him anywhere.

"Why not?"

"I'd get court martialled for a start."

"For what?"

"Asking the Doctor," Ethan advised. "It's strictly against Code 9 protocols. We're not even really supposed to talk to him. I thought I was going to get into trouble from Doctor Jones when I did without being invited to do so, but he was hurting and I only asked him if he needed Doctor Jones to come back in and see him and then he started talking to me about stuff!"

"And, I guess that Code 9 protocols say that if he talks to you then you have to respond to him?"

"Yes."

"I've never heard of anything so ridiculous," Jack commented and laughed. "I don't know how that man does it."

"Does what?"

"Have entire institutes go crazy. You've got Code 9 protocols. Torchwood? Well, I don't know if you know this, but Torchwood was originally founded by Queen Victoria when she both knighted and exiled the Doctor at the Torchwood Estate in Scotland after the Doctor saved her from a werewolf! She created a whole institute to protect against the British Empire against the Doctor. If I can go against the Torchwood Charter for the Doctor then I am sure that you could go against Code 9 protocols and ask him."

"I wouldn't want to be presumptuous."

"Okay," Jack commented. "I will just have to make sure he asks you then." Jack winked at him.

"He needs to recover first."

"Yes, he does," Jack agreed. They walked back up to the hospital building to check how the Doctor was doing. As they were walking back they heard a helicopter take off and head out away. Jack put his hand on Ethan's shoulder as they walked knowing that Blue was going to be on it. Ethan was quite relieved that Blue left. He was filled with sadness and anger about Blue, but he still had to get on. He had to stay busy.

Jack went into the recovery room to see how the Doctor was doing and Ethan followed him in even if there was only supposed to be one persona at his bedside. He'd not stay in there long. "How is he doing?" Jack asked Anita. "Did Martha do the next test while we were gone?"

"Yes, she did. There is a further improvement." Anita got the test strip and showed it against the colour matching key on the test strip canister. "His blood oxygen levels have fallen a bit more so Martha has gone to chase his blood count result. It should be in by now. I think we might have to give him some blood before we finish the treatment if it shows his blood oxygen levels have reduced due to his anaemia."

"There is more blood in the TARDIS, we're not limited to the four packs. I think he's got another seven or eight for this generation. If you need it I can go and get it from the TARDIS."

"The problem isn't the amount of blood he has it is that the drugs will affect his blood cells instead of affecting the toxins, so we need to find a balance of him not getting dangerously anaemic but not increasing his haemocrit too high," Anita explained her understanding, or, what Martha had told her when she'd asked about giving him a transfusion early. She wanted the Doctor to make his blood cells rather than be transfused them as far as possible as transfused blood cells had a shorter life span than ones created in the body and she assumed the same for the Doctor. She didn't want his blood levels to be suppressed for the few weeks they could be after receiving a transfusion rather than being supported in creating his own blood cells. His blood was haemoglobin based so she assumed that he would benefit from receiving some iron supplements over the next couple of days, but she wanted to check that with him before she gave him it. "At the moment we're trying to keep him as stable as possible but with a minimal level of intervention outside of the treatment he is receiving."

"He will get through it as long as we give him enough of the haemostatic cleanser to get rid of the toxins. He's due his fifth dose in eight minutes," Jack commented. "Then we only have two left. I don't understand why I didn't just come straight back." Jack advised talking of his other self who had teleported out. Anita was a little confused at first but then she remembered the other Jack had crossed into their time line from his own.

"Where did the other one of you go?" Anita asked him.

"He went to ask the people he got the pain killers from to see if they could tell him if there was anything that they could think of that would help the Doctor. If they don't give him a blood cleanser then he may need to teleport out in order to find another one. He didn't know we could get what we needed from the TARDIS so I went there and he teleported out to try to get the Doctor help from two angles. He would have just gone there and come straight back though."

"So he has gone back to see the same people?" Ethan checked with Jack.

"Yeah, they know what he had."

"But, didn't he have a run in with them the first time? I thought that was why he came back with a black eye, because he got punched by one of them. He is just teleporting back in there for more drugs after that happened?"

"Yeah."

"What if he gets into trouble?"

"He can handle himself," Jack advised Ethan. "I can handle myself," he assured him. "And, I'd have set the vortex manipulator to bring me back within a set time frame. At least that is what I'd do in the circumstances, so I can only assumed that he would as well as he is me," Jack explained. "An automatic return isn't always as accurate as it could be, but it would normally get me to the correct time but just get the location a little out. Only usually by a hundred yards. He teleported out from the main corridor just outside so he should have come back onto base within a couple of minutes."

"What if they hurt him?" Ethan asked.

"Then he heals very quickly and if they've killed him then he comes back to life," Jack reminded Ethan, though it felt strange to be talking about his other self in the third person when he was really talking about himself and he should have been saying I instead of he, yet he wasn't, he was talking about the other.

"What if he can't and he is really hurt?" Ethan worried, not just for Jack but for the Doctor. What if they didn't have enough of the drugs that he needed?

"What if who is hurt?" Martha asked coming back into the room and over hearing. "And, what are you both doing in here? You know that it is only one visitor at a time."

"We're not visiting," Jack advised.

"Oh, and what are you doing then?"

"We're trying to figure out why the other Jack has not returned yet," Ethan advised. "Maybe we should do a search for him? Should I go and do a search?" he asked Jack sounding like it was something he wanted to organise in order to not be standing watching the ventilator pump air into the Doctor's lungs and get out into a trance by the corresponding click and wheeze that he found quite hypnotic, and, it would also be good for not thinking about Blue.

"Okay," Jack accepted. "You need to check all areas within a 300 yard area of here. That includes upper floors. It would not put him more than 5 or 6 metres of the ground, but it might register an upper floor as the ground."

"So, it really a space hopper?" Ethan checked cheekily and grinned at Jack mischievously. "We better go and check it didn't bounce you on your head in a ditch somewhere."

"If you're going to be organising an area search you need to be methodical, have you been trained in how to do that yet?"

"Not when searching for something random, we have done for searching for things which have been secreted, but the other Jack hasn't been hidden has he? He's just landed, if he has at all. I can grid the area an utilise the patrolling officers as well with the dogs. If you're back already then we will find you. The dogs will pick up your scent."

"Oh! Shit!" Jack slapped his head. "Forget the search grids and the dogs, or don't forget that because it is a good idea, but I've got this! I'm such an idiot. I'm so used to not being able to use it, but I can search for compatible alien tech using this because it is exactly the same vortex manipulator, and it is out of time so it will show as a temporal blip! I am an idiot!" He accessed his wrist computer. "Conducting a search now, and…" It bleeped. "You're right, Ethan," Jack realised. "I am back."

"Does it say where you are?" Ethan asked him.

"Um, 54 feet, um," Jack tried to get the direction right. "Oh, okay, 54 feet that way." He pointed at an acute angle that was not quite directly upwards but was certainly not at ground level either.

"54 feet? There are only two floors in use in the building but there is a third floor which is a plant area. I think you must be up on the roof," Martha advised Jack.

"Why have I not just come down?"

"It's got an emergency bar and then a code to get back in. You're probably stuck out there," Ethan commented. "But, there are plenty of people around. You could have shouted."

"Or, I could have just jumped off the roof."

"Dying is not always the right option, Jack," Martha complained to him.

"Too many people have died today already without you dying as well," Ethan commented gravely. Jack put his hand on the young man's shoulder and nodded. He was right.

"We better go up and see what is going on," Jack commented.

"You two go ahead and I will follow up with my kit just in case," Martha offered. "Go on ahead."

Jack and Ethan hurried through the hospital building to the back staircase and then rushed up there onto the felt covered roof. Jack knew there was going to be little that he could do himself if he got up there and found that his future self was injured. He shouldn't really touch him, though he had already punched him once. Which had been uncalled for really. He should have known he had no idea how sick the Doctor was because if he had known he would have done something about it.

"Oh shit?" Ethan commented. The roof itself was covered in tar felt but it was green with algae and quite slippery where it had not been cleaned down. He didn't worry about any of that though as he ran. Curled up on his side over on the far side of the roof was Jack. The other Jack. The Jack from the future.

"Jack?" Ethan called out to him as he approached. "Jack!" He tried to get his attention. There were cuts and bruises all over his face. His lip was split and bloody. It looked like he had taken a right beating. His arms were cuffed behind his back and his ankles were shackled together which meant he was lying in an awkward twisted position. "Jack? Can you hear me?" Ethan asked him.

"Looks like he's out of it," the conscious Jack commented from a couple of yards away.

"I'll see what kind of cuffs they are. Maybe we've got a key," Ethan suggested. When he tried to turn the cuffs slightly to see what make they were to see if they would have a key for them in order to release them a low moan escaped from the injured Jack's lips.

"Jack, it's Ethan, can you hear me?" Ethan went to rub his shoulder, but the other Jack stepped in and caught his arm and stopped him from doing so. Ethan looked up to him curiously. He knew the two Jack's shouldn't really touch each other, but there was no reason why he couldn't try to comfort him was there.

"Look at the angle of his arm up his back," Jack insisted to Ethan. "His shoulder is definitely dislocated. I would not appreciate you doing that. Looks like his arm has been busted as well."

"Sorry," Ethan realised he had been going to hurt him.

"Shoot… me," the injured Jack groaned from the floor.

"No, you're not going to die," Ethan stated boldly. "Too many people have died today."

"Jack…" the injured version looked through swollen blood shot eyes at his own boots and the other Captain crouched down to him. "Shoot… me."

"Actually, I think Ethan is right," Jack commented. "And, I know I have this to come, but, today is not the day to be taking any more short cuts. As Ethan said. There has been too much death."

"The… Doctor?"

"No, he is still hanging in there," Jack assured him. "And, you know how he feels about it when we kill ourself or let us get killed. I don't think he'd be too happy."

"Doesn't… need to… know."

"He'd know," Jack sighed. "Did you manage to get anything to help him?" he asked trying to take his mind off the pain he was in. He could see that it was bad, but Martha wouldn't be too long.

"Cleanser… too long… should be… dead."

"We managed to get some cleanser from the TARDIS as well. Hopefully it is the same stuff as he is starting to improve a bit but he's probably going to need more than we have got," Jack advised.

"Shoot… me… please… Jack?"

"Martha is on her way up with a kit."

"She's… got too… much to… do… please… for the love… of Gray… shoot me."

"Is it just your shoulder that is out?" Jack asked him knowing that if he was bringing his brother up then he was serious. If it was just his shoulder then it wouldn't be too much. He would be able to handle it, though being up on the roof it was quite damp and cold. A dislocated shoulder would seize and become exquisitely painful while it was out. "Do you want me to put it back before Martha gets here and you have to wait while she does scans and things?"

"Arm…"

"Okay, let me put your shoulder back and then we will see," Jack insisted. He didn't like seeing himself lying there on the floor in pain and while Martha would probably have a go at him, technically it was his shoulder and even if he wasn't going to be shot he'd want it back in. He wasn't a wimp though, so he was quite surprised to see that he was struggling so much. Jack leant down and felt his own shoulder. He screamed.

Jack had a high tolerance to pain. Immortality had somehow dulled his senses to pain further. Jack slid his hand up under his armpit. He screamed again, but it was fairly plain to feel why. There was very little in the way of bony definition at all.

"Ethan, run downstairs and tell Martha that his shoulder has been shattered."

"Is it not just dislocated?" Ethan checked.

"Mallet…"

"They hit your shoulder with a mallet?" Ethan asked him.

"Both…"

"Okay," the uninjured Jack gulped slightly. "Ethan, go and tell Martha that both his shoulders have been smashed with a mallet." Jack advised.

"Knees…"

"Shit?" Jack frowned. "Your knees as well."

"Hurts…"

"Ethan, just go and tell Martha that he's been battered and she's going to need a back board and stuff to get him downstairs," Jack advised the young Private. He waited until the Private had gone. Then he had a look at the cuffs on Jack's wrists. The colouring of his left hand was blue and his lower arm was broken. There was blood on it. It looked pretty serious. There was nothing of his shoulder left at all. How could he have this to deal with? Martha had too much to do already. James was injured. He was there to look after the Doctor and he was not going to be able to do any of that was he? Not with two smashed shoulders, a broken arm, and two smashed knees.

"Jack… please?"

"Why did they do it?" Jack asked him.

"So… can't… steal… and… can't run away."

"Shoot me."

"I don't have a gun, Jack," Jack reminded him. He was not armed anymore. He had given his own weapons away at the gatehouse when he'd arrived and they had taken the UNIT issued guns back when the crisis had been stood down after the Harlequin was confirmed dead.

"Can't… make… me stay… Jack… you can't… handle it."

"I know," Jack accepted. "Forgive me." Jack leant down to himself. He grabbed his shoulder in his hand and he ground the fragmented pulp in his fist digging his fingers and thumb down into the non-existent joint. He screamed for less than a second before he passed out. "That is it," Jack sighed.

He wouldn't be able to do it if he could feel himself struggle. He used the code from the unconscious Jack's vortex manipulator to reactivate his. Then he took images of his injuries with his wrist computer so that when it came to it he could explain to Martha what had happened. He didn't have a weapon on him, but he put his hands around his throat. He then gripped his head and twisted violently in a fairly well practised manoeuvre to break his neck. He killed him instantly. Killed himself. He would come back. It might take a few minutes with the injuries that he had, but he would come back. He hated coming back and that process of making it back from death to life, but it would be better than enduring that kind of crippling pain and burdening the medical team with more serious injuries.

Jack knew that once he teleported out the dead Captain Jack would become the dominant member of the time stream and that he would be unlikely to materialise again from the teleport jump. It was hard to explain why or how that felt. He knew it would happen, but at the same sense it didn't scare him because it wasn't something he was actually keenly aware of. It was not like killing himself by jumping off a cliff and knowing that he'd be falling and then he'd die. It was more like knowing that if you stepped in front of a car on a motorway you'd get killed, but then crossing the road without looking. Not seeing the car that was going to kill you, but knowing that if you got hit by a car then you'd die. Jack also knew the sooner there was only a single Jack the less risk there was of contaminating the time lines further and his error in judgement had already hurt the Doctor. Jack teleported out and ended that risk.

"Jack?" Martha hurried out onto the roof with her kit. She had sent Ethan to go and find Stan and Yasser to come out and with the equipment to move Jack in if he was as badly injured as Ethan had suggested and to go to maintenance and retrieve a set of bolt cutters so they could remove the handcuffs. What had possessed him to go somewhere that they were going to beat him with a mallet for returning after stealing the drugs the first time round? Though, Martha knew the answer to that: the Doctor. "Jack!"

She could see where Jack was over at the other side of the roof. She had no idea where the other Jack was though. As she got to the Jack curved on the floor she couldn't see his chest rise and fall. She gently felt into his neck to find a pulse and got none. Martha got on the radio and advised control to tell them that the paramedic team was no longer required, but to get Ethan to return to the roof with the bolt cutters. She heard the call go out for Private Coates to contact control immediately, and they'd get the information to him by landline.

Martha moved to rest against the wall around the edge of the roof just to watch over Jack as she waited. She knew that he must have been injured quite badly because he was taking his time to come back. It was as Ethan ran onto the roof with the bolt cutters that Jack took a desperate wheezed gasp of air as he surged back to life. He carefully moved to sit up on the floor. He was shaking slightly and he felt incredibly drained with the energy it had taken to repair his injuries. He'd been in a state. It was enough that the pain haunted him as a psychic memory making him feel a little wary rather than have him just leap up.

"Hello." Martha wasn't happy with him, but she knelt by him and helped him sit. "Okay?" she checked with him.

"Think so," Jack accepted. "That was a bad one."

"He killed you?" Ethan realised. "He sent me away to get Martha and then he killed you."

"I asked him to," Jack commented and nodded his head to confirm Ethan's suspicions. "I have to look after the Doctor," Jack told him. "I'd not have been able to do it. If it was just a dislocated shoulder or something then you were right, but it wasn't Ethan. It was bad, really bad, or, do you not think I would have come downstairs or jumped off the roof and killed myself and saved all of that trouble?" he asked him. Martha rubbed his shoulder, she knew that Jack would have just dealt with it by himself if he had been able to. That he wasn't confirmed what he was saying and that it had been difficult and bad. "I was lying there for almost two hours," Jack complained.

"We've been busy with the Doctor," Martha offered. "I'm sorry, we should have questioned it when you didn't come back straight away, but we didn't think."

"You had more important things on your mind," Jack assured her. "I know that." He turned to Ethan. "Which is why the other Jack killed me, so, are you going to do the honours with the bolt cutters?" Jack asked Ethan, but he didn't move to cut them off. He just handed them to Martha making Jack sigh.

"I can't believe you killed yourself." Ethan hurried back inside.

"Ethan?"

"Let him go, Jack," Martha commented.

"I don't understand why he is so upset about it. He knows I have to look after the Doctor. It's not as if anyone has been hurt by it, is it?"

"Isn't it? Do you not think it hurts seeing you dead on the floor?"

"Would it not have hurt even more if you'd come up here and I'd had two smashed shoulders and two smashed knees?" Jack asked her. "I can't tell you how bad it was, but, there was definitely nerve damage in my left arm. I was scared I was going to lose it. How would I be able to run Torchwood then or to look after the Doctor or help to fix up the TARDIS?" Jack asked Martha. "You have more important things to be doing than looking after me," Jack told her.

"How can you say that?" Martha asked him. "How can you think taking care of you is any less important than taking care of anyone else?"

"Because there is a choice, Martha? There is a choice and there is a solution and in that I had no choice," Jack advised. "I will try to explain it to Ethan."

"You may have a hard job with that, Jack," Martha commented. He had been away and he'd been up on the roof, so he was not up to current speed. "Blue died."

"Oh," Jack sighed. "I will go and talk to him." Jack offered. "I'll do that as soon as you get the cuffs off for me?" Jack asked her, but Martha just glanced at him and then shouldered her kit now she wasn't going to need it.

"I better get back to the Doctor."

"Martha?" Jack frowned at her. "The cuffs?" he questioned, but she started to walk off. "Martha?" He was ignored by her. "Oh, come on? Martha? Please?"


	47. Chapter 47

Jack had to go over to engineering to get them to cut off his handcuffs. It was only once security had confirmed that he had not been arrested that they did so. He was slightly annoyed that they had left the cuffs on him. In normal circumstances it might have been a bit funny, but it was not a normal circumstance and he wanted to be with the Doctor and make sure that he was alright. The last time he'd seen him he'd been in heart failure and he'd had to go traipsing all the way over to engineering with his legs cuffed so he was only able to step six inches at a time to get the restraints removed because he didn't want the Doctor to find out he had been beaten so badly in order to get him help so he didn't want him to see the restraints if he was conscious.

Once that was done he went into the recovery-HDU to see the Doctor. He had done all he needed to do so now he was not going to go anywhere else unless it was for the Doctor. The Doctor wasn't conscious and he looked dreadfully unwell. He was still ventilated and the monitors were measuring his heart rates, his blood oxygen saturation, and his blood pressure. Jack wasn't sure that any of them were looking particularly good.

Anita was in the room, but Martha was elsewhere. "I need you to tell me where we are with him?" Jack commented.

"Nothing has changes since you left."

"I'm the other Jack. There is only one of us again, but I've been in engineering and I've not been around for the last two hours. I understand he is having a blood cleansing treatment at the moment?"

"Yes," Anita realised that it was the Jack who had brought the drugs back for the Doctor now. "He is due another dose in a few minutes and then we will do another test strip. Once his blood tests green we will have to put him on kidney dialysis for a period of four hours and that will assist him to remove the toxins from his blood. His blood count is now quite low so Martha is going to give him a small transfusion just to keep him going. She does not want him to get too anaemic. Did you bring some more of the cleanser back? We will only have enough to give him two more doses now. I am not sure that is going to be enough."

"I did, but I'm going to take it to the TARDIS first to make sure it is safe. I don't want there to be another interaction."

"No, I don't think he'd survive." Anita was a bit more candid than Jack would have liked to hear.

"I'll be back as soon as I can be," Jack hurried back out to go to the TARDIS. As he walked along the corridor he passed Ethan, but the young private just looked away. Jack didn't have time to try to explain himself any more at the moment. He had to make sure that the drug was safe to give to the Doctor considering the people he'd stolen it off had smashed him with a mallet he didn't entirely trust them. It was only because he'd pre-set his vortex manipulator and they didn't understand what it was that he got away at all.

He had been terrified and in such pain and then stuck on the roof and all he could think was that he had to help the doctor. He thanked anyone that there was blood cleanser in the TARDIS or the Doctor would have been dead and it was all his fault. He would try to explain it to Ethan later, but for now the Doctor was more important.

Ethan watched Jack go. All the stuff that they had said in the TARDIS? About it being like hope and him being sorry about Blue and being worried about the Doctor? All of that and then he had just killed himself? That was just wrong, when all about them people were fighting for their lives and he just let his be taken?

"Ah, Private Coates?" Captain Price almost walked into him because neither of them were paying much attention to where they were going. "Are you currently engaged in a task?"

"I am awaiting further instruction at the moment, Ma'am."

"Excellent," Captain Price commented. "Colonel Mace has been asking to see you all afternoon and you've been busy or he has been asleep. Perhaps if you're free now you could come and speak to him?"

"Um, yes, okay," Ethan acknowledged. "Has he got something he wants me to do?"

"I am not entirely sure. I think he just wants to talk to you for a while."

"Okay." Ethan sighed. He was tired and his best friend had died and Captain Jack had killed himself and nothing really seemed to be making sense anymore and now the Colonel wanted to talk to him. He was in a bit of a mess too. He had been running around outside and though it was actually quite a nice day it had rained for several days previously and he had run across some of the grass verges and his boots were scuffed and dirty. He had some dirt on his uniform trousers and he dreaded to think what his hair looked like. He was hardly looking presentable. He tried to pull his shirt down a bit and get some of the creases out of it.

"You're not on parade." Captain Price chuckled when she saw him looking worried about it. She led him the way into the East Wing and the room that the Colonel was in. They were talking about moving him up into one of the private rooms on the corridor now, but he was a bit worried that he'd not be able to keep an eye on the Doctor if they did that.

"Look who I found loitering around outside," Captain Price commented as she brought Ethan into the room. The Colonel was beginning to look bright. He was looking better than the last time Ethan saw him. He was leaning back against a pile of pillows and had his glasses on and was reading a large hard backed book.

"Ah, Private Coates, I have been waiting to speak to you."

"I was unaware, Sir, and, I wasn't loitering," Ethan advised.

"Son, after today, people are entitled to loiter a little," the Colonel advised him warmly. "Why don't you sit down for a moment?" Colonel Mace invited him to sit. He couldn't twist to put the book back down so Captain Price took it from him.

"I will leave you to is, Alan," Captain Price kissed him on the cheek and then left.

"If you need an update, Sir, then I have not got the most up to date information."

"It will just be the medical brief required now, and then we will be looking at the hot debriefs. It has been one Hell of a day. 23 dead?" the Colonel commented and then shook his head slightly.

"24 now, Sir," Ethan advised.

"Who?"

"Private Blue Rigsby."

"He was your bunk mate wasn't he?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I am very sorry," the Colonel offered. "It is hard when you lose a friend like this. It is not something you will ever get used to. If you do then it is time to leave service," the Colonel suggested. "I am sorry, your first action and your first friend killed will always be the hardest," he advised. "If you need to take some time then you do that, son. There will be people who have done a lot less than you today who will not turn in for parade in the morning. No one will think badly of you for taking some time," the Colonel assured him. "It is not a bad thing and it will not be counted against you. Now the crisis is over you need to take the time to recover, whether that be physically or emotionally. There has been a lot to deal with today. A lot has happened and a lot has been seen."

"Yes, Sir."

"I am very impressed by the way that you have handled yourself today, Private. You have a good future ahead of you, but you need to make sure that you do not bottle the pain. I have seen the finest young men turn into horror stories of their own because they believed that if a man does not cry then a soldier definitely should not. That is not only a fallacy but it is a dangerous thing to believe, so, if you need to go off for some time, to cry, or to lose your temper, or just to sit and think then you should do that. You need to find something that brings you calmness and peace without destruction."

"What if you think you find something but that it's no something that is always going to be available?"

"Then I guess you make use of it as you can, but if it is not available all the time then it is not reliable, so you need to consider something else too. It cannot be your work or the job, it needs to be outside of it."

"What do you do, Sir?"

"I read, I have Nelson, I run. I shan't be running for some time according to Doctor Jones, but it may surprise you to know that I have actually been on a run this evening," the Colonel advised Ethan.

"How?" he was sure that it must have been the meds talking because he could not sit up properly never mind get out of bed, stand, or go for a run.

"In here," Colonel Mace tapped his head. "My favourite 5km run. Just a short on, but I know the route so well that I can gain some peace from imagining it. If you have something you can reach out to then is it something that you can imagine when it is not available?"

"Even when you have to feel like it is imagining because if it wasn't you'd be worried you were going mad?" Ethan asked. Colonel Mace regarded him curiously not sure what he could be talking about. "It's the TARDIS, Sir."

"You have been in there?"

"Three times now. It is incredible. I went with Captain Jack to get something from the sickbay and I swear we have to walk for five minutes past the flight deck to get to it. It's not just the first room you see when you go through the door but there are loads of rooms and there were staircases. Staircases that went up and down when there is no way you could go down because we'd not gone up, so how could we go down when it was resting on the ground?" Ethan asked the Colonel. The Colonel smiled, but he didn't have an answer for him. "It is never ending. It is impossible but at the same time it is real. I think that is the biggest of paradoxes."

"It is incredible, but, you are right in that you cannot rely on the TARDIS to be available when you need to let off steam," Colonel Mace advised. "You need to find something you can do that is not destructive. Running or boxing or painting. There is a reason why we have our weekend workshops, why we have our organised sporting events. I used to work with one of the best snipers in the world. Some of the shots that man could take? You'd think they were impossible. He used to go home and do basket weaving. It doesn't matter what it is that you do, as long as it is something that you can find something. We don't just do all the sports to give Doctor Jones something to do over the weekend. It is because it allows people to form strong bonds in team play and to let off some steam. I've not seen you playing any of the sports though, have I?"

"I'm not really into sports."

"So, what are you into? Fishing?"

"No, I've never done it," Ethan commented. "I quite like cycling."

"Okay, so there are some great trails not far from here aren't there? We've got the fire road and the parks and there is no reason why you couldn't put your bike in the back of a jeep and head out into the countryside is there?" Colonel Mace commented. "What kind of cycling?"

"Road racing and mountain biking. I quite like both."

"Then why don't you take your bike out then?"

"Um, I don't have a bike."

"Oh."

"But, I know what you mean about running in your head. There are a few trails that I can do in my head," Ethan advised. "Thank you."

"Is there something bothering you, son? I appreciate that it has been a long day and that you must be upset about Blue, but, is there anything I can do?" Colonel Mace asked him. He felt responsible for all of his men, but for the boys he had brought in, lowering the age so that they could join when they should still be cadets? He felt even more responsible for them.

"You're injured, Sir, you're not allowed to do anything."

"I'm not allowed to a lot of things, but I am allowed to have a chat aren't I?" Colonel Mace asked him. "What is bothering you?"

"Major Proctor, Sir. He will be arriving very soon to take over."

"And?"

"He doesn't like me, Sir. He does not allow me to get involved. He dismisses me from everything before it starts. I know there will be things to be done over the next couple of days for the clean-up and the debriefs, and I don't want to be side lined."

"Ah," Colonel Mace sighed. "He does not dislike you, Private. I am fairly sure of that, but, Major Proctor and I do have a level of disagreement that will potentially impact on you. It is not because of your ability or capability, but it is because you are 20 years old."

"If this was the real army I could sign up at 16 with my parent's consent."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because this is UNIT. IT is all about the stars and different alien races and it's more than just providing defence."

"Which means that taking 16 year olds is not really an option. You are our youngest member of enlisted UNIT staff, Ethan, and while you have proven yourself, especially today and you have provided me with some justification to my insistence that you and other cadet grade staff become privates there is still some resistance to it," the Colonel advised. "Major Proctor is against the use of men under the age of 21 years being on base and he is not keen on having you involved outside the classroom. I will ensure that he is made very aware of the maturity and impeccable standards you have shown today. We have an age limit, but I do not believe it should be definite. Men who are twenty two, twenty three years old, may not have the capability, wisdom, and ethic of men who are eighteen, nineteen, and twenty years old. You have proven that. I will ensure that Major Proctor is aware of how exemplary your behaviour has been today. I can assure you that it is not personal, but it is political and unfortunately that is something we don't get away from," the Colonel advised.

"Please don't tell Major Proctor that I complained?"

"Have you complained?" Colonel Mace asked. "I heard a concern but no complaint, and a concern was due to a desire to continue what you have started. That is a worthy trait to have not a complaint. I expect I will have to speak to Major Proctor about Captain Jack Harkness and Mr Michael Smith as well. He is not going to be keen on having Torchwood liaison on site either."

Colonel Mace expected Ethan to make some comment about how good Captain Harkness had been. He had been impressed by the Captain and the way he had assisted them even when they had been at loggerheads by the way that he used Torchwood to hack into UNIT regularly, and had changed his own intelligence file on more than one occasion once to include naked photographs. "How is Jack getting on?"

"I don't think he wants to do anything but look after the Doctor now that the surgery went badly."

"That is why he came here and it is clear he cares for the Doctor very deeply, so that is understandable isn't it?" Colonel Mace asked wondering if Ethan was feeling a bit waylaid now the crisis was over and the Doctor was ill.

"Yes, it is," Ethan agreed, but then he sighed. "He shot himself or something?"

"Pardon?"

"Captain Jack. He went to get some medication from the future again, to treat the damage from the first lot of drugs that he got. He got attacked while he was there and he came back and we found him on the roof. He was hurt and he asked the other Jack to shoot him. Jack checked him out and said his shoulders had been smashed and that his knees were bad as well. Jack sent me in to go and get Martha. When we got back up there the other Jack had teleported out so there was only one of them again, but the Jack who had come back hurt was dead. He came back to life right there and then in front of us and was not hurt anymore."

"He's lucky that he can do that," Colonel Mace commented.

"Would you do it though, if you could?" Ethan asked him.

"Why did he do it?"

"His shoulders were smashed. It looked like at least one of his arms was broken as well."

"Okay, so he did it to save himself that pain?"

"Martha could have fixed him up."

"But in the meantime she'd not be doing what she has to do and he'd not be able to do what he has to do. If I could miraculously heal now so that I could get out of bed and go and do the things that I need to be doing then, yes. I think I would do it. I imagine the thought of having to deal with serious shoulder injuries was not very appealing, but I also expect that there is a lot of pressure on him. He had just been to get drugs to try to save the Doctor's life hadn't he? He couldn't do that if he was badly hurt. We have several files on Captain Harkness. They aren't required reading like the files on the Doctor so you've probably not seen many of them, but Jack has done a lot of good on this planet through Torchwood, and that is only what we're aware of. He dealt with Abaddon and with an alien sleeper cell and he looks after things that come through the rift. He has died for us time and time again."

"It doesn't seem right to do it deliberately."

"Have you talked to Jack about that?"

"No."

"Then perhaps you should?"

"He has gone to the TARDIS to make sure the drugs he has got for the Doctor are safe and are not going to cause further problems."

"He would not be able to do that if he had two damaged shoulders and two damaged knees would he?" Colonel Mace asked Ethan.

"No."

"I think that you should talk to Jack about it. He is in a unique position and I can't imagine it is all a benefit. If he can have a benefit from it then perhaps he is entitled to one and if that means I can still rely on Captain Jack rather than be dealing with the fall out of a Torchwood Liaison being injured whilst at UNIT then I'd be thanking him. In a way it is just like a medical procedure for him isn't it?"

"I don't think Doctor Jones sees it like that. She left him in the handcuffs!" Ethan advised the Colonel who couldn't help but smile at that. Martha certainly had a way of making her feelings felt.

"I have seen the medical reports on one of our retired members in which Doctor Jones deliberately stopped the heart of a patient and technically killed them in order to perform a medical procedure before bringing them back and enabling them to make a recovery," Colonel Mace advised Ethan. "I think that Jack is just able to take that a step further and do it himself."

"Maybe."

"Talk to him about it," Colonel Mace insisted. "If you want to be an intelligence officer then you need to know how to investigate things, especially those that don't sit well with you, because if you're an intelligence officer and you are swayed by a subjective feeling then your intelligence reports may be skewed rather than factual. That is why we employ a team of intelligence officers rather than an individual, but you need to be able to be subjective."

"That is why Doctor Jones wouldn't let me take the medical brief for the welfare liaison team, because I'd have had to give an objective report on Blue."

"I think Doctor Jones was right."

"Yes, she was."

"Now, you need to go and gather what evidence and information you can to find out if with the facts to base it all up whether you think Jack was right or not. That can be your next task. I will tell Major Proctor that you are working on it for me, but I want a report in two days. I want you to tell me what you have found out and what that leads you to believe. I can get Marion to give you access to the relative reports from our archive. Speak to Jack, Mickey, Martha, and, if the Doctor is well enough then speak to him as well. That will improve your interview techniques. When you speak to Martha I want you to make sure she has a drink and something t eat too. She is going to end up dropping and she won't come back to life."

"Are you serious, Sir? You want me to investigate it?"

"Yes, see how you do, and if you change your mind."

"I haven't made my mind up yet really."

"Well, that is always the best place to start," Colonel Mace advised. "And, before you go, I want to say thank you. Not as base commander, but as Alan Mace. Thank you for all you have done today. You have been a credit to UNIT and to yourself, not just in the work you have done but in the way you have shown you care for people, so, thank you."

"You're welcome, Sir."

"As base commander I am putting you in for a special commendation. They may decline it until you are 21, but I will ensure that you will either get it before or on your 21st birthday."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Go and sort out your report for me, and make sure you go back to barracks."

"Sir? Back to barracks?"

"Yes, to sleep, to shave, shower, your boots need a shine, Private," Colonel Mace told him. Ethan looked down at his boots. They were scuffed. He tried to straighten his T-shirt out again. Captain Price had told him he was not on parade, but the Colonel had noticed.

"Yes, Sir, sorry Sir."

"Sign of a busy, day, lad," Colonel Mace assured him he was not in trouble. "But, make sure you're presentable in the morning and refreshed. Make sure your rest," Colonel Mace insisted hoping the youngster was not just going to go back and polish his boots until daybreak to get them gleaming as they usually were.

"Yes Sir."

"Can you send Marion back in on your way out? And see her in the morning to get the archive files you need."

"Yes Sir."

"Good, thank you, goodnight Private."

"Goodnight, Sir," Ethan paused and saluted his commander and then left. Marion was waiting outside and she went back in.

"Is he okay?" Marion asked knowing that the Colonel had been worried that they'd given Ethan too much to do.

"His friend passed away."

"Oh no?"

"Yes, his bunk mate. He is hurting, but he will be okay."

"I am sure that Captain Jack is watching out for him."

"I think the Captain is more worried about the Doctor at the moment, and, that is understandable. Besides, Ethan is not Captain Jack's responsibility, he is mine. He is confused about the Captain's immortality too, so I want you to dig out some of the archive files on him. Some of the things he has done. Let Ethan read it. It won't do any harm will it?"

"No, I don't think so."

"And, Terry, when did you last talk to him?"

"My brother Terry?"

"Yes."

"Last Sunday, why?"

"He's a keen cyclist isn't he?"

"Yes," Marion commented. She wasn't sure what he was getting at though. He wasn't going to be sitting on a bike for a long while.

"I want him to get everything he can to kit Ethan out to cycle. Even those shorts with the padded backside. If you speak to stores they will be able to list his uniform size."

"You want Terry to get Ethan the stuff he needs to ride a bike?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"And a bike as well," Colonel Mace added hoping that Marion did not just think he wanted to get him some Lycra cycle shorts.

"You want Terry to get Ethan a bike and everything he needs to go riding?"

"Yes, and a helmet, he must have a helmet, a decent one," Mace insisted. Captain Price looked at her fiancé curiously and then leant in and kissed him.

"You're too soft," Marion teased him.

"He has no family and no sponsor. He saved lives today, but his best friend has been killed and he has no outlet. He likes cycling but he has no bike, so, in order to further his career and give him what he needs I will get him a bike, and, because I know nothing about bikes can your brother advise?"

"I am sure he will happily do that. How much do you want to spend?"

"I don't know. How much does a bike cost?"

"Terry spent £1200 on his bike. You can get them a lot cheaper or a lot more expensive."

"Could he get everything for £1500.00?"

"I am sure he could," Marion agreed. "I take it that it is a personal rather than a UNIT thing?"

"I won't be putting it through expenses," Colonel Mace confirmed.

"Are you sure it will not cause Ethan problems if it becomes known that you have gifted him a bike and all the equipment to go with it," Marion asked. Colonel Mace sighed. "We will get him it, but is it anyway it can be something other than a personal gift from him to you?" Marion asked.

"Ah! His commendation. He is under 21 so we can't process a full commendation for him for another 9 months, so, we can give him the bike instead because he has to wait," the Colonel advised. He was happy with that. That worked well. Pleased he shifted on the bed but his success was lost as his pain morphed his expression.

"When did you last use your clicker?" Marion asked him. Alan sighed and pressed it, then he pressed it again. Marion caressed his head. "I will sort his bike out and you get some rest? Get some more sleep."

"I need to finish the chapter first," Mace insisted and pointed back to his book. Marion got it to him knowing that he could not retire with an unfinished chapter no matter how silly she thought that was. There were only three pages left of the current chapter and he read them and then was quickly back asleep.

The TARDIS confirmed to Jack that it was alright to continue to use the new haemostatic cleanser when the one from the TARDIS ran out. It was not as well suited for the Doctor but it would still work. She was relieved that Jack had got some more. He went back through to the Doctor's room. He picked up some drinks and something to eat from the staff room on the way, Martha wasn't in the room, but Anita was and he'd brought something for her as well.

"Have you done another blood strip test?" Jack asked keen to see how the Doctor was doing. The latest strip had moved into a lilac colour so it was better but it was still a fair way from the green they were aiming for. It made them wonder just how much of the toxin had been in his blood stream, but the issue was the long acting nature of the drug in that it was still breaking down in his blood stream and his body had become temporarily sensitive to it.

"His blood oxygen levels have fallen a bit more?"

"Yeah, we've taken the oxygen up to 90% as well. It is not that his blood is not picking up the oxygen it is due to his level of anaemia. There aren't enough blood cells in his blood. When Martha comes back she is going to give him a short transfusion to see if that helps."

"Where is Martha?"

"She is just next door. She is doing some checks on Jamie," Anita advised. "Her parents will be arriving in soon so she needs to make sure that all the tests are as up to date as possible." Jamie was another patient with life changing injuries. She was going to need medication for life. She'd be totally insulin dependent and would not be able to process alcohol. She was going to be totally paralysed and her jaw was in bad shape with only two teeth left. They would have to keep help her with that and she was currently being ventilated through a hole in the front of her neck. There was amazingly no evidence of brain damage, so, providing she survived she could rehabilitate and live a good life albeit from a wheelchair. It would be hard, but Jamie was not the kind of girl to give in.

Martha came into the room and saw Jack was back. He was handcuff free and sitting by the Doctor's bed. She was no happy for killing himself, but then he vaguely remembered the other Jack doing something on the scanner. He looked at his wrist computer and images flashed up. He transferred them onto the wall panels.

"What is that?" Martha asked him.

"The scans the other Jack took," Jack advised her. "Of me. I think that was a shoulder at some point. Would have been able to fix that?" he asked her. The head of the humerus had been pulverised and his upper arm shattered. "You could not have fixed that could you?"

"Not very well."

"Then why make you try when there is an alternative?" Jack asked her. "I'm needed here," Jack commented and pointed to the chair at the side of the Doctor's bedside. "Not there." He indicated to the other bed in the room that was going to remain vacant to give the Doctor privacy as they treated him.

"I know," Martha accepted. She went and kissed him on the cheek. "I just don't like it."

"Neither do I really, but there was no choice."

"This time," Martha commented. "I still think you do it too often, but, let's not dwell on that for now."

"Okay, I confirmed the drugs are safe for him. We just continue the same once the ones from the TARDIS runs out and he continues to get 10ml every 30 minutes until he tests green."

"He is improving now. Hopefully the drugs have stopped metabolising and are just clearing out," Martha commented. "I'm going to give him a half pouch of blood. He's getting pretty anaemic now."

"How is everyone else?"

"I don't want to tempt fate, but I think we are getting there with everyone injured during the attack. He is actually my biggest concern at the moment," Martha indicated toward the unconscious Time Lord. He still looked more dead than alive as he remained on a ventilator and linked up to various monitoring equipment, drips, and the like. "Cole is responding well to the treatment under pressure and the antibiotics. He will need several more surgeries but it looks like we're starting to make headway with the infection. I think he will make it and I am in conversation with the Royal Hope about getting him transferred there when he is more stable. It does look like he is going to lose some toes on his left foot, maybe part of his foot, but it's not going to be a full amputation. He is going to need some very specialist treatment, and, unfortunately the best on my team for dealing with his kind of injuries was Luke Wilson. The same applies to Jamie. Until our new facility is built we're not really equipped for the kind of rehabilitation she is going to need, so we'll be transferring her out once she is stable as well," Martha confirmed.

"You're not really geared up for long term patients."

"When we've got the new facility and are staffed appropriately the Royal Hope may well be sending patients in to us, but for now, I'm looking at moving both Cole and Jamie. Richard is responding well and is breathing unassisted yet he remains heavily sedated. That is largely due to the affect the pain of multiple rib fractures will have on his breathing. We will keep him comfortable for a few days longer but short of any further respiratory complications he should recover well."

"It is starting to look better overall then?" Jack confirmed.

"We've no more surgery planned for tonight unless anyone has a sudden immediate need. There will be a few to do throughout the day tomorrow, but then we will be reassessing and seeing what is going on. I'm worried that this is just a bit of a lull. We've got some people with injuries that need to be surgically dealt with tomorrow," Martha commented. "And, more parents, wives, husbands, and children will be coming in. That is the bit I hate. Not only failing to save a patient but then having to tell their family that I failed as well."

"I'm sure they don't think you failed," Jack offered.

"Oh, I've already been screamed at today," Martha commented with a tired shrug.

"Who by? Not by Blue's family?"

"No, by Tom Vance's partner, Steve. Have we got an update on how he is?" Martha asked looking to Anita.

"He's been given some mild sedation to help him rest, but he is still under observation in the holding cell," Anita confirmed.

"He's a soldier?"

"Yeah, and he went berserk at Martha for having a coffee and some fresh air during an update," Anita commented.

"Bastard."

"He'd found out his fiancé had been killed. He was upset," Martha advised. "A lot of people are upset. I'm going to put the Doctor's blood up and then wander down and make sure that Alan is comfortable and behaving, and then we will do another strip blood test on him and see how he is doing," Martha suggested.

It was hard waiting. They were all feeling tired but there wasn't anything much else they could do now. Martha sent Gerald and Doctor Carter both off site to go and get some proper sleep so there would be fresh medics coming in for the morning shift. She could not have everyone working constantly. The night shift had been called in when they realised their number of casualties exceeded their routine capacity, but now she needed to make sure they could maintain a level of staff so that some of them could sleep and others could be ready to act at all times. They needed to have enough people who were alert and not dead on their feet in order to deal with any interventions needed, but also to be able to sustain that over the next few days until they had a chance to take stock and things really did settle back down.

She also had to acknowledge that she had lost two doctors and a nurse. She needed to reschedule and she needed to think about getting some bank nursing staff in to cover the shifts and possibly some locum doctors as well. She couldn't send everyone who had been in all day home for the night even if they had been up for hours and hours, and she couldn't keep everyone or there would be no one available in the morning. So, Gerald and Doctor Carter were going off site until 0800hrs. She had done the same for two nurses. The rest of them would rotate through the night. Five hours on and five hours off would see them through until the morning. There was some room made available in the barracks and she would use the cot in the back of the East Wing if she got the chance.

It took a further five doses of the blood cleanser before the Doctor had tested green and he did not need any more of it. "There we go," Martha offered as she reviewed the test strip. "Neon green. Well done, we're there." She caressed the Doctor's head. He still felt cold. It didn't make sense for him to be as cold as he was and Martha didn't understand it. Even if Jack was right and he felt cold because he didn't have any energy then why was he cooler than the ambient temperature in the room? They were keeping it a bit warmer than usual for him so the air temperature was 21 degrees, yet his body temperature was only 14. If he had no ability to control his body temperature then it would naturally reach an equilibrium with the environment and he'd be feverish compared to normal. There had to be some kind of metabolic reaction keeping him cooler than the air temperature but also keeping him hypothermic. It was like someone showing signs of heat exhaustion while sitting in the fridge, it just wouldn't happen and didn't make sense. She was going to have to ask him to explain it when he was well enough. She hoped he'd never get hurt like this again, but if he did she did not want to be feeling like a useless medical student all over again.

"Okay, now, we give him the blood?"

"Let's wait twenty minutes so the last dose is gone and then we will give him the blood. In the meantime I'm going to get the dialysis going for him. She definitely said to put him on a 12:4 ratio?"

"Yes, I don't know what that means though."

"It means it is a rapid process. 12 litres of blood through the machine an hour for 4 hours. That means we'll be filtering his entire blood volume about five times over the next four hours. It is quite harsh, when doing normal therapeutic dialysis we'd only do it at about a third of that speed. 4:4 is standard."

"I will get the machine," Anita advised. She went and got a portable dialysis machine brought in. They had two of them.

"Do you know how this works?" Martha asked Jack.

"Not exactly. You pump his blood out of his body, around the machine, the machine filters it, and then it goes back into the body again?"

"Yeah, that is basically it, it will support his kidney function. I'm just going to use a standard filter. I can't imagine he is that different to a human in terms of what he keeps in his blood and what he needs to filter out. If he was then the TARDIS would have let you know," Martha commented. She pulled the sheet back away from his left leg. "I'm also going to use the standard femoral catheters to do it." Martha commented. She swabbed the inside of the Doctor's thigh with dark orange iodine solution to make sure it was clean and sterile, then she bent his leg up and put a tourniquet around his thigh for a moment. A vein bulged up in the inside of his leg and she slid a wide bored needle into it.

Jack thought it looked more like a spear than a medical device. Martha pushed it right into the vein and then pushed a tube up through the middle of the needle. It almost as wide as her little finger. Blood spurted out and Martha winced slightly as Anita wiped it up and they capped the vein catheter. They then stitched it into place. Further up his leg Martha did the same thing and stitched a second tube into place. They connected the lower tube to the machine and then the machine to the higher machine so that when it was all unclamped the blood ran out of his leg into the machine and then back into his leg. The dialysis machine used a slow working pump to keep the blood flow running under pressure.

It took twenty minutes to get it running so once that was doing Martha put a blood pack up for him, not only because he was anaemic, but also because he now had over a litre of his blood getting filtered through the machine rather than through his veins.

After forty minutes the Doctor looked a little pinker than he had done. It was not a huge change, but he looked sick rather than a deadly slate grey.

"You're doing well, Doctor," Jack assured him as he held his cold hand and rubbed his lower arm. He'd shown no signs of consciousness for hours. It worried Jack to see him so still and so quiet for so long. He had been taken into surgery almost seven hours previously and he was still totally out of it.

A further hour passed so they were almost half way through the dialysis. His blood oxygen level was back into the 90's, it was still low, but it was better. He'd received two litres of blood back into his system. Martha was feeling more confident that they had turned a corner and the worst was over, but just as she thought that the Doctor suddenly tensed on the bed. Martha was horrified that it looked like he was going to have another seizure, but he bucked and gagged and the ventilator alarmed. It whirred but then instead of pumping air into his lungs it clicked several times and the air was vented through the side of the machine rather than pumped into the Doctor's chest as there was some kind of obstruction. It was not able to get any air in and the Doctor was panicking and gagging on the tubing.

"The tube must have blocked up," Anita commented. She wasn't panicking. It was possible for mucus to block the tube every now and then and he had been on it for six hours. They'd have to take the tube out, clean it, and then slide it back in again.

"Let's get it out," Martha agreed. "You're okay, Doctor. Just relax," Martha instructed. "Just relax, we're going to sort you out love, it's okay." Martha got Anita to hold his head still. She twisted the tube off the ventilator first and the machine stopped alarming. Then she twisted the part down his throat and slid it up and out of his mouth. They'd replace it with a new one. Anita was about to break a new one out of the sterile seal when the Doctor wheezed. It was a pained harsh and hoarse breath but he shakily drew it in.

"Okay, well done." Martha looked at the tube. There was no blockage in it. "Let's be having another one." Martha insisted. She had a hand under his neck to support him and to keep his airway open. "If you don't take another breath I'll be putting the tube back in and I get the feeling you won't like that much," Martha warned him. "Come on, please? Doctor, you can do it."

He wheezed again. He sounded like a 60 a day smoker with chronic emphysema, but he got some air in despite the fact that he was struggling to do it. Martha grabbed her stethoscope and listened to his chest. "Anita, use the ambu-bag and give him a breath please?" Martha instructed wanting to see if she could hear anything untoward. Before Anita did the Doctor wheezed again. "What is going on, Doctor?" Martha asked him. "He's not getting air in properly," Martha worried. "Give him a breath and let's see?" Martha asked Anita. She listened to his chest as Anita pushed the air into the Doctor's lungs.

"I can feel some resistance," Anita commented. It was like trying to put air into a balloon that was too tight.

"Is it his bypass?" Jack checked.

"I don't know. If it is then it has not come on correctly. It should be complete and it's not. He's trying to breathe, but it is as if his chest has gone into spasm," Martha commented. The Doctor wheezed a pained breath in. It sounded like he was trying to breathe in through a faulty bagpipe.

"Let's try a bronchiole dilator," Martha suggested. They got the ventilator going again, but not so that it would breathe for him, but just attached to the oxygen mask so that it would pump oxygen against his nose and mouth so that when he did breathe in the air was forced in a bit. They them broke a small capsule of a clear fluid and put that into a reservoir at the base of the mask so that the medication was vaporised and he breathed that in as well. Jack watched curiously. "It's the same as putting him on a nebuliser," Martha explained. "It will relax the muscles in his chest and the tubing in his lungs a bit and let him take deeper breaths."

He wheezed in, but then he coughed. He coughed and then he spluttered and then he wheezed in and coughed again, hacking up so that spittle marked the inside of the mask. Martha took the medication away and just put the oxygen on him. She eased him up a little bit so that he wasn't lying completely flat. She wasn't sure if he was even conscious, but coughing was not something someone totally unconscious could do so he was coming in the right direction. He was still coughing though and the breaths between were ineffective.

"Come on, Doc, breathe?" Jack pleased. The Doctor choked until he tensed and gagged. He'd not been given anything to eat or drink for hours before his surgery and it was now nearly six hours afterward. He wasn't awake enough to follow through the gag reflex with spitting as he risked breathing it in as he continued to splutter.

At the side of the ventilation machine was a suction tube. Martha held him as Anita used it to clear out his mouth and the back of his throat, but he gagged again. "Come on, Doctor? I'm going to have to put you back on the ventilator, aren't I?" Martha sighed. His blood oxygen levels were suffering and this time it wasn't because of anaemia but because he wasn't getting enough air into his spasming lungs.

The Doctor wheezed in and then moaned. He sagged against Martha. It took a few more minutes but then his breathing started to settle down. He had the oxygen mask on and Martha was poised to react if his breathing failed again, but it stabilised. "That's it, Doctor, well done." Martha caressed his head.

"Breathing is good," Jack commented and squeezed the Doctor's cold limp hand. "Keep on doing it, Doc, it's good."


	48. Chapter 48

Martha checked the Doctor's pupil response and listened to his chest once it seemed that he was going to carry on breathing unaided. There was still a very slight wheeze, but nothing like before. She hoped he wasn't going to develop a chest infection or pneumonia, she imagined that would be pretty bad for him. The TARDIS had suggested he'd let them know when he needed to come off the ventilator, she wasn't sure that choking and gagging was what she meant, but it was off and as Jack reminded the Doctor several times; breathing was good.

Martha checked all the drips. She checked the dialysis catheter because he'd moved a few times in the bed. It remained secure. She checked his urinary catheter and his output. It seemed to have gone up a little which was also good. She emptied the bag and then set it up again so they could monitor it. She didn't know if it was a Time Lord thing or if an indication of the trouble he was in but his urine was pretty strong and there was no polite way of avoiding the fact that it stunk.

"Do you want to put some fluid back up for him?" Anita asked crinkling her nose at the strong smelling pee.

"Yeah, let's just get another saline up in order to take the strain off his renal system. He did confirm that he has naturally more concentrated urine, but we want to make sure this is as easy for him as possible," Martha advised. She sent a sample of the urine to the lab to be checked before disposing of the rest.

The Doctor moaned softly as Martha fiddled with the electrodes on his chest to make sure they remained secure. "Shhhh, you're alright," Jack assured him and held his hand. When the Doctor moaned again Jack looked to Martha, it sounded like the Doctor was in pain. "What's hurting him?"

"He's still getting the NA1Z and Bladamine, but it is also being affected by the dialysis. Until that is completed he's not going to get the full relief from the drugs. He's got about an hour left to run on it," Martha explained. She checked that there was still urine coming through. She had feared what had been said about him having solid waste and developing kidney stones but there was some sandy grains collecting in his urine bag showing that solid waste was coming through. It looked like it was all very slight and small, as long as it remained like that then it might be okay for him.

"Wah…" the Doctor moaned.

"You're okay, Sweetheart," Jack tried to comfort him. The Doctor moved his arm at his side showing he was becoming more aware.

"Water?" he gasped hoarsely.

"Okay." Martha poured him a tiny amount of water into a beaker. "Are you back with us now?" she asked the Doctor kindly.

"No."

"Oh, okay," Martha caressed his head. "But you want to have a drink?" Martha checked and the Doctor moaned wordlessly. "Open your eyes for me and I'll let you have a drink," Martha encouraged. "Come on, Doctor, open your eyes for me? If you want to have a drink then you need to be awake and I want you to open your eyes for me." Martha wanted him more awake before she let him have a drink in case he forgot to swallow. He wasn't in danger of being dehydrated because of the fluids he was receiving, but she didn't want to choke him or risk it going down into his lungs. The Doctor didn't say anything else, but he groaned in discomfort. Martha put the beaker down and she checked his pupil response again. She sighed and caressed his head. "We can try again in a little while, can't we?" she offered as the Doctor seemed to have slipped back into unconsciousness.

Only ten minutes of peace passed for the Time Lord before he groaned again. He sounded like he was in agony but unsure of it. "Doctor?" Martha rubbed his shoulder lightly. "Can you hear me? Open your eyes for me?"

"Come on, Doc?" Jack prompted. "We're all waiting for you. You need to wake up," he told him. "It is getting late and you've been asleep too long." He didn't add that he'd been dead when both his hearts had stopped and they were all desperately concerned that some damage had been done.

"Open your eyes for me, Doctor," Martha suggested. She thought she saw his eyelids flicker as if he was trying. "That is it, come on." She rubbed his shoulder and the Doctor moaned and grumbled at her. "Open your eyes, Doctor. Can you hear me?" Martha asked him. "Open your eyes. You want a drink of water don't you? If you want to have a drink then you need to wake up."

"Water," the Doctor breathed and then groaned.

"Okay, come on then," Martha carefully supported his head up and put the beaker to his lips. She let the water touch his lips to wet them, but the Doctor didn't take a sip. She used her thumb to smooth the water over his lips and then replaced the oxygen mask. "Is that batter?" Martha asked him. "Open your eyes for me, Doctor?"

"Is he still under sedation?" Jack asked.

"No." Martha sighed. She shook her head. "He's just struggling to wake up." She put her hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "We'll get you there. I've got a drink here for you, Doctor, but you need to wake up."

"What about tea? Would he wake up for tea?" Jack asked. "Maybe I should go and make him a cup of tea? It can't hurt can it?"

"I don't think it will hurt, but I don't think it will make much difference. His body has been through a lot, Jack."

"I'm going to make him a cup of tea."

"Okay, but not hot," Martha insisted. The last thing she wanted was for the Doctor to inhale or splutter scalding tea. "There you go, Doctor." Martha caressed his head. "Jack is going to get you a cup of tea. That will be good. Won't it?" Martha asked but the Doctor just moaned. "Doctor? Can you hear me, come on Love, you need to wake up a bit more than this. You're worrying me a bit now," Martha admitted quietly. She was scared that the amount of time he'd been in heart failure and problems that had caused in getting oxygen pumped around his body could have caused him problems. She had no idea what she would do, what Jack would do, what any of them would do if it became apparent that the Doctor had been left with brain damage because they'd tried to fix his leg for him. She caressed his head for a few moments as he moaned.

"What are we going to do?" Martha asked him quietly. "Come on, you need to do your bit now, it's time to wake up."

"Mar…"

"What was that, Doctor?"

"Martha…" he breathed.

"Hello." Martha rubbed his shoulder. "I'm here. If you open your eyes you'll see that I'm here," she insisted. "I'm not going anywhere and I'm just going to stand here and carry on nagging you until you wake up properly, and, you've met my mother so you know that I'm going to have picked up some very good nagging skills. So, you might as well just do what you're told hadn't you, so come on, open your eyes."

"Pain…"

"Oh, love, I know," Martha caressed his head. "But it's going to get better. I promise. Where is it hurting?"

"All…"

"Open your eyes for me," Martha nagged. The Doctor's eyes opened a crack and he squinted and winced, grimacing, as he forced his eyes closed again. They were trying to blind him. Martha looked up. They were still in the recovery suite and there were three sets of lights in there. "IS it too bright?"

"Head… hurts."

"Okay, I'm sorry." Martha stroked his head gently. "Anita, can you turn the middle lights off?" she suggested. Martha waited for the lights directly over the Doctor's bed to be turned off. "There we go, Doctor, try again for me please?" Martha insisted. The Doctor winced and tried to open his eyes. His head hurt and the light hurt it more. He persevered though and he opened his eyes a crack.

"Hello," Martha grinned at him. "Not seen you for a while," she commented. "Well done." He wasn't sure what had been going on but he guessed that since Martha sounded incredibly worried and like opening his eyes was some kind of achievement that it had been bad. He had no idea why he felt so ridiculously ill, but he didn't like it much. He groaned and closed his eyes again. "Okay," Martha caressed his head. "Can you tell me what is hurting?"

"Head…"

"Okay, you already told me about that. What else?" She asked. It was quite hard to think about what hurt beyond his head but his hand instinctively went to his chest without him even realising that it was hurting him until Martha asked him. "Is your chest hurting?"

"Ow…" the Doctor commented and then whined as he felt it. His chest and his side. They hurt. "Leg… Martha?" the Doctor pleaded. She was a medical doctor, she could stop it all hurting, couldn't she? He groaned as the pain became more focused as he existed beyond the raging ache between his temples. His head, his chest, his leg… they hurt the most.

"I am sorry." Martha took his hand. "It will get better." The Doctor groaned and put his other hand to his head. Anita went and got an ice pack. They put the cool pack against his forehead.

"Does that feel any better?" Anita asked him kindly.

"Thank you…" the Doctor acknowledged. The Captain returned with a cup of tea for the Doctor. He'd made it pretty strong and he'd put double the sugar in it, but he'd cooled it with extra milk.

"Ah, here is Jack. He has got a cup of tea for you if you want one?"

"Yes… always."

"It's not too hot for now," Martha commented and checked the temperature to ensure it would not burn him. "Open your eyes again so we can see you and you can have a drink," Martha insisted. The Doctor looked at her a little puzzled as his aching mind tried to figure out why he had to open his eyes for her to see him, but then he just sighed. She helped the Doctor to take a sip of his tea. He did drink it and he didn't cough. He swallowed it so Martha let him have another sip, but he only drank down about an inch of the mug before he moaned and had to rest back against the bed rather than Martha's hand on the back of his neck.

"Glad to see you awake, Doc, how are you feeling?"

"Cold…"

"We didn't want it too hot in case you snorted it," Jack assumed he was talking about the tea.

"I'm… cold."

"We can get you another blanket," Martha offered and Anita went to fetch one. Martha didn't want to tell him just how sick he had been just yet. She would wait until he was feeling better before telling him that between them they had almost killed him. She tucked a blanket around his shoulders, but left it off his cast leg and only lightly covered the rest of him so they could check the catheter and the dialysis lines.

"Martha… why?"

"Just relax for now, Doctor, we can talk about it all later. All you need to know is that you're going to be okay and you're getting better. You just got a bit poorly with the anaesthetic," she told him. "Do you want another mouthful of your tea before you go back to sleep?"

"Feel… sick."

"Okay, do you just feel a bit queasy or do you feel like you're going to be sick?"

"Don't know…" the Doctor whispered.

Martha and Jack were relieved the Doctor was awake but remained concerned for him. It was clear he still wasn't well. He appeared weak and sick. He wasn't pushing to find out what had happened. He didn't want to finish a cup of tea despite the sugar Jack had put in it.

They let the Doctor rest and it quickly looked like he had gone back to sleep. Martha went down to the Colonel's room to let him know that he had been awake, but the Colonel was sound asleep too. Martha told Captain Price who seemed relieved and pleased. Martha then found Private Coates sitting in ward 2 talking to one of the patients in there. She thought he had gone back to barracks some time ago. She called him out, let him know the Doctor had been awake but was resting again, and then chased him out of the hospital and back to barracks where he could get some rest.

Martha was about to tell Anita to go and take a few hours sleep break when the Doctor moaned again. He grimaced and then tried to bring his left leg up. "Keep still, Doctor," Martha instructed. She put a light hand on his knee to try and ease his leg back down. The dialysis was almost completed so she didn't want the tubing snagging.

"Urgh…" the Doctor moaned and then gagged. He coughed and spluttered and the tea he'd drunk earlier ran down his chin and into the bed as he spluttered. Martha hooked her arm around him and pulled him up and to the side so he didn't breathe the tea in. He coughed and sobbed, but he didn't even have the energy to throw up properly. He was freezing cold or he thought he might have been about to regenerate. He had a new grumbling pain in his lower back. He wasn't even sure what it was. He tried to ignore it, but now he'd noticed it, it seemed to strengthen as if just to provide new torment.

"Have you finished being sick?" Martha asked him kindly as Anita dabbed the spills away and put a towel over the wet patch on the bed. They didn't want to disturb him with changing sheets when he was feeling so fragile, not for a tiny bit of regurgitated tea.

"Back… hurts."

"Okay," Martha had worried about that. She checked the catheter bag. There was more urine in it and more of the sandy material, but there were also some bigger grains, most remained under 3mm though so would easily have passed through. If he was starting to experience discomfort then it could mean there were some larger deposits starting to build. The TARDIS had assured them that he'd pass anything that built up so she didn't have to worry about blockages, but that didn't mean it was going to be pleasant for him.

"Is your back hurting a lot?"

"No… it's just… new."

"Let me know if anything is hurting a lot."

"Leg…"

"We have operated on your leg now and that went very well," Martha assured him. "We've stabilised the mid-shaft fracture with an external frame like we intended. Does it feel any better than it did before?"

"Can't… tell… just hurts."

"Okay." Martha caressed his head. There wasn't much else that she could do. "I am sure you will start to feel more normal before long," Martha assured him. "You just need to rest and get your strength back. Try and relax and go back to sleep." Martha caressed his head and Jack gently stroked his upper arm, just letting him know they were there with him, as he gradually drifted back to sleep again.

The Doctor slept for over an hour during which Martha sent Anita off to go and get some sleep. When Anita had slept for four hours they would swap and Martha would go and get some rest. In each of the other areas her staff were doing the same in order to keep going. It wasn't an adequate amount of sleep, but at least it was some. Martha was beginning to feel a touch of fatigue herself, but she'd been up most of the previous night as well. She wasn't able to get Jack to watch the Doctor and she wasn't going to leave him on his own in case something else started to go wrong.

It seemed she was right not to leave when the Doctor went from asleep to trying to throw up and crying out at the same time. Martha had managed to get the dialysis off him without disturbing him, but had left the venous catheters in so they could reattach it if they needed to. They were capped off and secure for now, but it was clear as he gagged that he'd woken not just in discomfort but in acute pain.

"Where are you hurting, Doctor?" Martha asked him. She hoped that the pain relief would have been calming him now that he was no longer having any dialysis or treatment to conflict with it. "Is it your leg?" she asked concerned that the effect of their surgery was not as good as they'd hoped.

"Arrghh… what… is it?"

"Where is it, Doctor?" Martha asked him.

"Side."

"Up here?" Martha hoped that he'd not knocked his rib, but he covered his lower abdomen to the left side with his hand. "Just on the one side?" Martha checked with him.

"Yeah… arrgh… it hurts!"

"Let me see, Doctor," Martha pulled the three blankets he was shrouded in to one side in order to reveal his abdomen. An involuntary shiver spread through him. He was so cold. It hurt him so much? "Show me where the pain is?"

"Here…" he groaned and indicated to the left side of his lower abdomen. It seemed to have gone off a little bit again.

"Is it just at the front or at the back too?"

"Front… more than back… but it is both."

Martha pulled some gloves on and she gently palpated his abdomen. She pushed down into the lean muscle of his abdominal wall to examine the structures beneath. The Doctor groaned as she pressed near his navel, but when pressed below his navel the pain increased, when she shifted across to the left he cried out. She checked that the catheter tube remained in place, then she palpated him again. "Is this where the worst pain is?" Martha asked him and she pressed just to the side of his bladder. The Doctor cried out and then groaned. She tried to trace the line up toward his kidney region. There was another tender spot, but it didn't make him cry out like the first. It felt like it was close to his bladder, but before it rather than in it. She felt through the right side of his abdomen but there was no distinct pain or point tenderness there.

"What is… it?" the Doctor asked weakly. He couldn't take anything more, but then the fierce pain shot through him again. It made him want to curl into the tightest ball ever, but he couldn't move. He cried out unable to even hope to contain it. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt anything like it. He had to be going to regenerate. He was dying, there was nothing else for it, then it eased off again. It ached and felt bruised and he didn't want Martha to poke him anymore, but it was reduced. He breathed in short gasps trying to get air back into his lungs. "It hurts… so bad, but… it's gone off… again."

"We had to give you some medication and one of the risks was that you would develop deposits of solid matter in your urine," Martha advised him. "The TARDIS has assured us that anything you produce will be passed naturally, but, I think you're experiencing the classic symptoms of a particularly large deposit being pushed through," Martha told him. "It is what would commonly be termed a kidney stone though yours is the result of medication. As it is passing through it is stretching the ureter and that is causing it to go into spasm and it's painful. It feels like it is quite close to the bladder though so it shouldn't be too long until it has passed through. There isn't much more we can do but wait for it to pass through. Once it gets into your bladder it shouldn't be too bad as you have got a catheter in," Martha assured him.

"I've got … a kidney stone?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Yeurrgh… God!" the Doctor exclaimed and grimaced. He gritted his teeth but the pain soared again. It shot through his abdomen.

"Try to take deep breaths," Martha encouraged, but the Doctor groaned and the cried out as the pain escalated. It happened every couple of minutes, shooting through him and then dropping off to a dull ache only to come back again. It was as bad as the cowboys had been and even more regular that their rodeo! Martha worried as it didn't seem like the pain was travelling as would normally be the case. She palpated his abdomen again to see if the point of the most severe pain had shifted as the stone made its way along the ureter from his kidney to his bladder, but it didn't seem to have. It was still in the same place.

For a further half an hour the Doctor couldn't relax. Each time he tried to relax and to fall back asleep he was assaulted with the worse abdominal pain he could ever imagine. He'd been stabbed and he'd been shot and he'd had various other horrible things done to him, but this was horrendous. It was a red hot poker being stabbed from his front through to his back and the twisted and wriggled and jolted, leaving an aching wound between the times when it would be stabbed back through him again. Jack remained at his side, trying to soothe him in any way that it could, but every few minutes the Time Lord took his pain out on Jack's hand until the Captain thought he'd have to make him let go or risk dislocated fingers, but then it would pass again and the blood would flow and he'd continue providing the Doctor an anchor knowing that barely any time would elapse before it hit him again.

Martha palpated him again. It had not moved. "Doctor, I think we need to take a scan to see what is going on. I get the feeling that for some reason this particular stone has got itself wedged and stuck. I'm going to sort out the ultra sound and we will see what is going on," she advised him. She went out of the room and came back with a portable ultra sound machine. "Doctor, in order to get the best image on the ultra sound you need to have a full bladder," Martha warned him. "You have a Foley catheter in, so I'm going to use that to fill your bladder with saline and then cap it off so it doesn't drain while we do the scan. It's not going to hurt, but it might feel a little strange and uncomfortable," Martha warned him as she got the scanner ready but then got a bag of saline. She attached it to the catheter tube and she squeezed the fluid into his bladder.

The Doctor groaned. It wasn't painful, but it felt wrong. He suddenly had the need to urinate harder than he had in a long time, but he couldn't Martha tied the catheter off so he couldn't empty his full bladder. He thought he was going to explode. She squirted some jelly onto his abdomen and pressed the probe down over his full bladder and that just made him want to pee even more.

"There are a couple of stones in your bladder waiting to pass out so they are getting through, at least they are one way," Martha advised him. She scanned across the right side of his abdomen and found two small stones but they appeared to be moving through without any issue. He wasn't experiencing any pain in that side though he might have had some general renal colic.

"Come and hold his hand properly, Jack, from this side please?" Martha advised. "We might need you to help him lie still as well so I can get a good image."

"She means pin… me to the bed…" the Doctor commented quietly.

"I've got to get the images, Doctor," Martha apologised with her tone. Jack had stepped away from the bed because he'd not wanted to embarrass the Doctor by hovering when Martha had been squeezing water the wrong way up a tube through the middle of his penis. He would tease him incessantly about it when he was feeling better, but not for now. The Doctor was in too much pain to really care that much about what Jack did or did not see. He knew Martha was going to have to press the probe down against his abdomen where it hurt in order to see what was going on. He should have been able to get some quite significant stones through without any issue, so he didn't know what the problem was, just that the intense pain indicated toward one.

As Martha positioned the probe the Doctor cried out. "I'm sorry, Doctor, it won't be long." She took some stills and then moved the probe along. She got the images she needed. They could see one large stone with several smaller ones behind it all trapped in the urinary tract just before his bladder. It looked like he had a natural but anomalous kink in his ureter. It would cause him no issues at all normally, but now it had become a trap for the stones as one had gone up through the kink and then not been able to get round the bend causing more stones to get trapped behind it. The TARDIS had said he would pass them and it looked like he would have done, except for the slight anomaly.

"Doctor," Martha put the ultra sound probe down. "You've got a kink in the ureter on the left side a few inches away from the bladder. A stone has got wedged in the bend and it's stuck and it's causing a blockage that means nothing else can get past either. That is what the pain is."

"The TARDIS said he'd pass them without a problem."

"He would if he didn't have the kink in the tube."

"So, we've got ourselves a kinky Time Lord here?" Jack asked. The Doctor groaned as Jack eased him, but he didn't have the strength to argue. Another wave of pain hit him. It was getting worse. It felt like a knife had been stabbed through his gut and was being twisted and then drawn through his flesh making him cry out.

"Okay, Jack, go and find me four pillows. They will be in the store you were using as centre of operations earlier."

"Right," Jack acknowledged. He went out to get them not questioning why Martha wanted them. He hurried out, fetched the pillows and then returned immediately. "Where do you want them?" Jack asked going toward the head of the Doctor's bed which was where pillows would usually be used.

"Down this end. I want him on his side so we need to protect his leg," Martha advised. They put the pillows ready so they could turn him onto his side and his leg would be on the pillows and they'd not have an issue with the fixator getting caught on the bed or on his other leg. They had to make sure there was no pressure on the metalwork or it could have shifted since it was not ideally set due to the fractures above and below the fixed sections of bone. The change in his position was likely going to hurt him, but the Doctor was more worried about his abdominal pain than his leg. It showed the surgery had gone quite well, despite the complications, but also that he was in agony as a result of those complications.

"Doctor? We're going to get you on your side. I'm hoping the change in position might enable gravity to assist the stones in moving through your ureter," Martha suggested. "Jack, help him over. I'm going to look after your leg." The Doctor roared in pain as they moved him onto his side. The weight through his leg hurt. Moving made his head swim and his side hurt and his belly was on fire.

"No…" the Doctor used what little strength he had remaining to try to get back over. He didn't want to be on his side. It felt totally wrong. It felt like his leg was going to snap and that his back was breaking. He wanted to be on his back. Nausea swam and his head pounded.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, we need to try to let that stone pass naturally or you're going to end up in trouble," Martha commented and held him so he could not get back. She got his leg set on the pillows with two under his knee and two under his ankle so that the metalwork protruding from his leg was off the mattress.

Martha passed Jack another pillow to put under the Doctor's head now he was on his side and he needed some neck support. The Time Lord groaned and sagged forward.

"No, come on, I need you on your side," Martha didn't want him on his front or to curl over, but it took a moment to realise that he wasn't curling up but floundering unable to hold the position. "I'm sorry," Martha moved to hold him on his side more comfortably as he was too weak to maintain the unstable position himself. As she held him she felt him trembling and shivered. "Are you still feeling cold?"

"Freezing…" he moaned and then cried out before grunting. He tensed and Martha had to hold him on his side again.

"What is hurting you the most?" Martha asked him. "You need to tell me, Doctor, please?" Martha moved her hands to stop holding him to try and adjust the pillow but he stared to sag onto his front again. "Can you hold yourself on your side for me?"

"Can't…" the Doctor moaned. "Martha?" She was supposed to be helping him not making him feel worse.

"It's okay. I'm sorry you feel so bad, but you're going to be okay." She caressed his head and kissed him on the forehead, but he felt cold still and was slightly sweaty. He was shivering and his face screwed in agony as another wave of pain hit him. Martha could see the muscles in his abdomen cramping with tension. He groaned and then cried out.

"Jack, can you support him on his side and hold him secure, I need to examine him and do another scan," Martha suggested. Jack tried to hold him, but the Doctor cried out and the Captain realised that he'd just put his hand right next to the dressing with the # drawn on it.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Jack sighed. It was hard to know where he could hold the Doctor. He wrapped an arm around him as he toed his boots off. He then got up on the side of the bed. He laid on his side behind the Doctor and wrapped his arms to cocoon him. "You can rest back against me, Doctor," Jack eased him so he could relax, still on his side, but leaning back against Jack. He slid an arm under him and held him and then gently stroked his head. "Okay?" Jack asked him quietly, hoping that he'd help him relax and that he'd not overstepped the mark.

"You're… warm," the Doctor whispered. Jack could feel the Doctor lean back against him. The Time Lord felt so light and weak. Jack could feel him trembling and he could feel how cold he was. He tucked the blanket up over him and tried to rub his arms to keep him warm.

"I always knew I'd worm my way into your bed one day, Doc," Jack commented and kissed him on the back of the head. The Doctor just sighed. He wasn't going to complain. The warmth of Jack's Artron fuelled human body was too nice to give up.


	49. Chapter 49

"I'm going to do another scan with you on your side, Doctor," Martha advised him, though she wasn't sure if he was concentrating on what she was saying or if she was just providing a background of noise against the pain he was in. "Hopefully we will be able to stretch your ureter out a little and the stones will pass though more easily," Martha suggested. She first palpated his abdomen and the Doctor groaned and then cried out.

"Shhh, you're okay," Jack held him and assured him even if he knew the Doctor was far from being okay. He didn't quite know what else to do or say. He could feel the Doctor wanting just to curl in on himself. "It's okay, you need to lie still for Martha so she can do the scan." He tried to hold the Doctor but a heart wrenching moan escaped the Time Lord's lips. "You're doing okay, Doctor. Just stay still and try to relax."

Martha got the ultrasound probe. She put the gel on the probe head rather than on his skin and she pressed it against the Doctor's lower abdomen. "Hold him, Jack," Martha instructed. She pressed the probe down, trying to angle it and then extend it into the kink in the Doctor's ureter both to get a clear image and perhaps to get the tube to straighten out a little. The Doctor cried out.

Changing his position had not worked. There remained a bend in the tube and Martha thought there must have been some incongruity and thickening of the structure. The stone simply could not pass through as if it was caught in a plumbing U-bend. Martha wiped the gel off and then marked the spot on the Doctor's skin with a black felt tip pen.

"I am going to have one go at manipulating your ureter, Doctor, if that does not work then we will have to think of something else," she warned him. The Doctor moaned but he didn't acknowledge what Martha had told him. Jack tightened his hold on him, trying to keep him calm, and to soothe him, hoping that his being there was making a difference to him. He could feel him shaking and he was getting sicker again.

Martha put her fingertips either side of the mark that she had made on the Doctor's skin, so she would be either side of the trapped stones. She pressed into his abdomen in a deep manipulation in an attempt to force the tubing to stretch and straighten. The harder she pressed the more high pitched and the louder the Doctor's cry became. She had to go deep in order to try to manipulate it to allow the stone to pass. If it didn't work then it wasn't going to pass through, urea was going to build in his kidney, and he was in trouble unless she then went in and retrieved the stone. She hoped she'd be able to get it fairly easily using an ureterscope and wire, but if she couldn't then it was going to be more surgery. She had no idea when they'd be able to give him another anaesthetic safely. She'd not normally contemplate doing any kind of work with an ureterscope without an anaesthetic, but she wasn't going to knock him out chemically any time soon.

"Let's see if that has done anything to help," Martha unhooked the ultra sound probe again. She viewed the position of the stone. It had done nothing. A spasm caused the doctor to cry out even though Martha had finished her examination. "Keep him on his side, Jack," Martha instructed. "I'm going to go and get Anita." She reattached the Doctor's catheter and unclipped it so the fluid she'd filled his bladder flowed out freely. The Doctor groaned deeply. There were a couple of small stones in the fluid that had come easily through from the other side, just small enough to pass through the catheter, but seeing the size of some of them in his system she was going to have to replace the catheter with one with a larger lumen or they'd not pass through the medical tubing and block up his bladder as well.

"It is going to be alright, Doctor," Jack assured him.

"Jack…" the Doctor moaned. "I can't… bare this?"

"I'm sorry." Jack held him. "You're going to be alright. Martha is going to look after you."

"Hurts…" he whimpered and then a deep groan rose to another cry. Jack could feel him pulling against him as he instinctively wanted to curl up, but Martha didn't want him to do that and he resisted him. Luckily the Doctor was so weak that he simply gave up.

"Shhh." Jack rubbed his arm gently as he held him.

"Dying."

"You're not dying," Jack commented and kissed him on the back of his head. "I promise. You're not dying. Not any more. Now you're getting better."

"Sick…"

"Take deep breaths," Jack held him. "Do you know why you feel so wretched?"

"Anaesthetic…"

"Well, yes, but you've had to have a treatment with a haemostatic cleanser. That is what has caused this. It's taken all the good stuff out your blood as well as the bad stuff, so we just have to make sure we put the good stuff back and let the bad stuff come out completely. Then you're going to recover. It is just going to take a little bit of time to sort out. You're on the mend, now, you just got really sick," Jack tried to make him feel better without scaring him. He knew the Doctor had to be feeling worse than sick. He was shivering and he laid against him because he didn't have the strength to remain lying on his side on his own and he was too cold to kick him out of his bed.

"Head hurts…"

"Close your eyes and just try to relax," Jack suggested. He caressed his head lightly, just using his fingertips in an arc over his ears. It seemed to relax the Time Lord and Jack hoped he'd get back to sleep, but then something escalated and he felt all the relaxation leave him in a single gasped breath before he cried out. "Shhh, I'm sorry." Jack held him. He didn't know what else to do as the Doctor writhed in agony against him. He hoped Martha was back soon because he felt somewhat out of his depth with the Time Lord in this state on his own.

Martha did return quickly and she had Anita with her when she did. She owed the nurse several days off and several coffees after going to get her out of her bunk during her four hours. It was unfair, but, she needed her. "Doctor? Hey, can you hear me?"

"Not…deaf… just dying."

"You're not dying," Jack reminded him.

"You're not dying," Martha reiterated. "But, you do have a collection of stones and gravel trapped in your ureter. We can't manipulate it and if we keep on trying we risk damaging the tubing and causing some bleeding and we don't want to do that. If we leave it any longer then it's going to back up into your kidney and potentially cause you some damage there. Hopefully it hasn't already done so. The blockage is close to your bladder. It's only a couple of inches, so, I'm going to use a ureterscope to go and see if I can retrieve the stone and maybe put a little temporary stent to keep that part of the tube open and straight for anything else to pass through. I'm going to remove your catheter and then pass a scope in. I'm going to apply a local anaesthetic gel to your urethra, but we're going to access your bladder that way and then I'm going to pass another tube through the scope and there are a couple of ways we can try to remove the troublesome stone. I can't give you another anaesthetic when you've been so ill. It's not going to be very comfortable, but we're going to do it as quickly as possible, and I'm sure the relief you will feel once that lodged stone is removed is going to be worth some additional discomfort."

"Understatement."

"I know, I'm sorry, but once it is done you will feel much better. We need to do it. We don't want you to have any more trouble with your kidneys so once we've done this I am going to put some more fluid up and I think I will run the dialysis unit again for you to take the strain off."

"I know you're feeling horrible, Doctor, but I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you," Anita commented and took his hand. "And, it will be better once it is done."

"I'm going to retrieve the catheter now, Doctor, you may feel some slight pulling but this shouldn't hurt at all." Martha reduced the cuff on the top of the catheter where a balloon deflated inside the entrance to his bladder so she could slide the tube out. She held the Doctor's penis straight and just slid it out of him. He moaned softly but she didn't know if that was due to what she was doing or his general kidney pain.

"Shit, Martha?" Jack looked at the metal scope that Martha had brought in on a trolley. It was as wide as his little finger. "You're going to stick that up his…"

"Jack." Martha shook her head at him. "It's not too big, we've got a nice cooling gel and a good lubricant so it's going to go in easily," she advised hoping that the Doctor didn't worry. The Time Lord just sighed. Just because he was sick didn't mean he was suddenly stupid. He knew exactly what Martha was going to do. Anita drew some clear gel up into a syringe and Martha squirted it up through the middle of the Doctor's penis. "That is the anaesthetic gel. It should be numb in seconds," Martha commented. She used a cotton swab coated in iodine to wipe him down in and around his groin, and then she took the metal rod of the scope which was lubricated and she pushed it down quite firmly through the middle of his penis. Jack couldn't watch. It looked brutal. The Doctor only moaned slightly. Jack was sure he should have been screaming as Martha pushed it right down through him. It was cylindrical and hollow so once in position she had direct access down to his bladder.

"Just relax," Martha advised the Doctor. "That is the scope in and that was the worst part."

"Burns…"

"I'm sorry," Martha assured him. "It's not going to be in long." She held it as the Doctor experienced another spasm as his body continued to fight the lodged stone. It wasn't going to move but it didn't mean his body didn't stop trying to force it through.

"Anita, can you come round here and hold the scope in position," Martha got her to hold his penis and the scope. Because he was on his side they had to hold it in position or it would twist over inside him, but she wanted him on his side as it would be easier to access the ureter from the bladder. Martha got a narrow optical device. It was charged up and connected, so when she turned the computer screen on and she pointed it at Jack he could see himself up on the screen. It had a tiny camera and a light in it, but it also had other tools. Martha passed it down the tube through the middle of the Doctor's penis into his bladder. It all showed up on the wall. It didn't look any different to any of the urology studies she'd done on humans. She'd not done this actual procedure as a lead physician before, but it was a standard general surgery.

The camera passed into the Doctor's bladder, but it was directional and Martha twisted it around so that it then fed off to the left. She found the entrance to the ureter which connected his bladder to his kidney. Jack watched on the screen. It was fascinating as Martha directed the camera up out of his bladder. There looked like there were some abrasions on the tube and a little blood from the passing of previous stones which had made it through the kink but had caused irritation. If that had caused swelling in the tube it would be another reason why the next stones had got stuck.

"I'm easing up into the ureter now, Doctor. It may cause some further spasms and some pain. I can't afford to give you any anaesthesia to stop it at the moment, so I'm sorry. I will get it done as quickly as I can," Martha warned him, but the Doctor only moaned. Jack tightened his hold on him and Anita held his penis straight in one hand and braced his hip to stop him moving with the other. Martha eased the scope into the ureter. The Doctor jerked and cried out. "I know it's uncomfortable, but you need to try to relax and keep still, Doctor. I know it's not nice."

Martha pushed it in an inch and they could see how the tube bent. There was a ridge of scar tissue on the tube. He must have had an injury or an infection at some point to cause it. She negotiated the bend with the scope, moving through it and then straightening it so that she stretched the tube so it was straighter. The screen showed everything so that it was magnified a hundred times and it revealed what looked like a massive jagged collection of aggregate wedged and embedded into the reddened wall of his ureter. It was the stone.

"Well, that is the culprit right there," Martha commented. "I'm going to try to use some suction first now that the tube is straighter," Martha offered. She activated a suction and got it onto the stone and tried to pull it out, but it was wedged too far for the suction. It wasn't going to come out that way. "Okay, I'm going to cage it," Martha told Anita more than the Doctor. She wasn't going to try anything more than once before escalating or she was potentially just subjecting the Doctor to it for longer. She pulled the suction tube out, then she passed another tool up. It had long wires sticking out of the end and she managed to ease them past the stone. Then when she twisted the end the wires spiralled out. She eased it back so that the stone was caught within the wires and then she twisted it the other end so that the wires tightened around it. It had caught it in a wire basket. Martha tried to ease it out but the Doctor cried out at the spasms that it caused. She passed another tool up the tube alongside the basket. She pushed it so that it was right against the stone and then activated it. It sent a shock of air in a pneumatic blast against the stone and fragmented it slightly. She then used the basket to pull the rubble left out and into his bladder. She withdrew the basket and the largest bit of the stone remained in that. She dropped it into a metal tray where it chinked down into it. She then pushed another tool up. She put a bit of plastic mesh into the bend of the tube, expanding it outward to hold it open and wide enough so no more stones that could naturally pass through the rest of the tube would get caught.

Martha drew up some saline and she pumped it into his bladder, expanding it until he moaned. She then let it drain through the scope and sucked out all the bits of gravel and stone that were in there so that they all dinged into the tray along with the fluid.

"Let's just check that is it for now," Martha suggested. She palpated him and he was understandably tender, but he did not scream. She used the ultrasound. He was clear of any large troublesome fragments. She left the stent in to keep the kink in his ureter straight. She would have to remove it again at some point, but hopefully it could stay in until he went back under the anaesthetic for his leg and she could do it without causing him any pain. She withdrew the tools and then she passed a wider urinary catheter in for him within the scope before she pulled that out.

"That is it, all done, Doctor," Anita assured him. "Well done."

"Has the pain reduced?" Martha asked the Doctor quietly as he sagged back against Jack. The Captain had to move his head out the way or he'd have ended up getting cracked in the chin by the back of the Doctor's head. In a Time Lord skull versus human jaw battle he imagined he'd have come off much worse and he didn't fancy dying with his teeth embedded in the Doctor's scalp.

"Its… not as bad."

"Okay, good, you will probably still experience some renal colic for a day or so, but I don't think you'll get blocked up again. I am going to sort some more fluid out to help flush everything through, and then that will be it," Martha assured him. "Do you want to move back onto your back again now?" Martha checked with him.

"I don't want… to move… ever… leg's sore."

"I'm not sure you can stay like this forever, Jack is going to have to get out of your bed at some point." Martha chuckled.

"He's… warm."

"Oh, so that is all I'm good for? An Artron powered heater?" Jack asked.

"So… cold."

"Okay," Martha looked at Jack.

"I'm fine," Jack assured her.

"I'll sort your drip out and set the dialysis going again and that should be it for a few hours. You can try to sleep and rest," Martha sorted out the drips. He already had all of the canolas in so she didn't have to disturb him much and nothing caused him additional pain to do his drips, but the dialysis was a problem. He was lying on his left side and there were pillows to support his right leg over his leg it was more difficult. They had to change the position of his cast leg slightly and he moaned his discontent. Jack held him and kissed him on the back of his head but he was rapidly falling asleep again. Martha set the dialysis going again. She had put the last blood pack up to combat his anaemia and she checked his urine output which seemed better. There was a touch of blood in it, but that was acceptable after she'd been pulling stones out. He was going to be feeling pretty unwell for a while longer, but she hoped the worst of the pain was over for him and he'd gradually improve. The most important thing for him was to be able to rest.


	50. Chapter 50

Mickey had spent most of the evening in ward 2. He'd not been any good in with the Doctor and he'd have just got in the way, so he'd been in there with patients that needed some company. It was now getting on for one o clock in the morning. He'd heard the Doctor crying out several times until about half an hour ago, so he hoped that the Time Lord was managing to rest. As much as the doors had been closed it had still be impossible to keep the noise away and the loudest of the Doctor's muffled screams had been heard. Few people knew who it was, they just thought it some poor soul who had got caught up with the Harlequin, but Mickey knew and it pained him to hear it more than he'd imagined it would.

He knew Martha and Jack had been in with him, and although the sound had been quite haunting, as he told Graham, whose bed he'd been sitting by, it was good he was yelling and not comatose as he had been. Graham had been shot and had been though surgery to remove the bullet. He was probably going to be allowed to leave in the morning, but he had not been able to sleep, so Mickey had been keeping him company. They'd been quietly playing cards.

Mickey waited until Gordon had slipped off to sleep, courtesy of a couple of sedatives that the night nurse had given him. He suggested that Mickey went home, but since that was now in Cardiff it was a fair distance to go as he was due back in the morning. Mickey assured him that he would be able to get a few hours sleep in the rest room. Before he thought about that he went into the recovery room.

"Well, that didn't take them long," Mickey commented quietly to Martha when he saw that Jack was in bed with the Doctor. He was basically spooning the Time Lord. It would have looked quite cute if the Doctor had not got an oxygen mask back on, a dark patch of bruising over his eye and down the side of his face. He was otherwise bone white. He had drips running into both arms and a tube full of blood running into a machine from under the blankets. He also seemed to be receiving blood. What surprised him was that the Captain also appeared to be asleep.

"He is serving a purpose in there," Martha offered. "He's keeping the Doctor warm and helping him to stay on his side for a while."

"I heard the Doctor yelling," Mickey commented. "Was it his leg?"

"No, a kidney stone mostly, and his leg, and he's got a headache and all the other stuff we've manage to cause," Martha commented.

"He had kidney stones?"

"The drugs he's had caused the toxins in his blood to coalesce and some of it became solid in his urine. It's not the normal process but it's the same. He has a slight irregularity to one of the tubes that link his kidney to his bladder, or I think he'd have been okay. The defect trapped a medium sized stone and caused him a lot of pain until I could retrieve it for him," Martha explained. "He seems to be resting more comfortably now though."

"Good, has he had his cup of tea?" Mickey chuckled knowing that it didn't matter how ill he was he'd want tea.

"He drank a bit of one and vomited so no, he's not well at all," Martha commented. "He should pick up. I'm just worried about how much this has knocked out of him. He couldn't support himself on his side that is why Jack got in the bed with him. I think the Doctor found his body heat and contact a comfort, but they seem better now," Martha offered. "Hopefully the Doctor will continue to improve over the next few days."

"He said he was worried about the anaesthetic. I bet he didn't imagine it was going to be this bad."

"It wasn't the anaesthetic but the combination of drugs. At least we seem to have averted the disaster, but we really almost lost him," Martha commented. "It may take him some time to get back to full strength and I don't think he's used to not just bouncing back from things. He was in heart failure for some time, so it may have left him with other issues to overcome. He's going to need a lot of TLC over the next few days and we'll have to take additional precautions when we take him back into finish the surgery on his leg. He's have a blood transfusion and kidney dialysis at the moment to support him, so hopefully when he wakes up next he'll be feeling better, though that is likely relative as he'll still be feeling wretched."

"What about you, Martha?" Mickey asked her. "Have you had any sleep?"

"Not yet. Anita has gone back to get a few hours and then I'll go."

"Things seem to have settled down a bit."

"Oh, don't say that," Martha groaned dramatically. "That is the worst thing anyone can ever say," Martha complained but Mickey chuckled.

"Why don't you go and get some sleep now?" Mickey asked. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do? Sleep when they are asleep?"

"I think that is with babies." Martha laughed quietly. Mickey shrugged and indicated toward Jack and the Doctor. "Oh, don't be mean," Martha slapped Mickey lightly.

"I tell you something, the Doctor is going to get a right shock if Jack wakes up with the morning wood on." Mickey chuckled. "He'll be like, is that my sonic screwdriver you've got there?"

"Behave," Martha commented, but couldn't help but smile, though she didn't think the Doctor would care one way or another. He just wanted to be warm and probably a little bit cuddled.

"If you're not going to get some sleep, let me go and get you something to eat and drink?" Mickey asked Martha.

"Yeah, okay, as long as you join me," Martha prompted knowing Mickey hadn't slept either and not knowing how much he'd eaten. She doubted he'd have been too forward in making sure he was supplied from the meal packs that had been brought for either the military staff or the medical staff. Mickey nodded and went out. She expected him to be back inside a couple of minutes with machine coffees and a sandwich each, but he was gone longer. When he returned he had a trolley with him that was covered with a folded bed sheet.

"What is all this" Martha asked.

"Dinner for two," Mickey commented. He wheeled the trolley right over and then found a seat and moved it so he sat opposite Martha and then pulled the sheet off elaborately. There were wraps and sandwiches, some penguin biscuits, and a couple of packet of crisps that had been decanted into cardboard sick bowls. There were also a couple of sausage rolls and some grapes and two mugs of hot chocolate. Martha was not entirely sure where Mickey had appropriated it all from, but she was grateful.

"Where did you get this from?" Martha asked him.

"Father Henry got it brought in and we stashed some away to last the night," Mickey advised. "There were some little onion bhajis and samosas as well but some one nicked them, sorry," Mickey commented. "Crisp?" he picked a bowl and handed it to Martha.

"You do know that this is a sick bowl?"

"It's straight out the store. I was going to find some flowers but the only vase I could find was a urine bottle and I thought that a step too far."

"Well, I think this is lovely," Martha commented and smiled as she selected a wrap.

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I do, thank you," Martha confirmed and Mickey grinned. Martha smiled and carried on with their meal. "So, how is your ankle doing?"

"Oh, Martha? I make you a romantic dinner for two and you want to discuss my ankle?" Mickey frowned.

"Okay," Martha accepted. "Though I'm not sure crisps in a sick bowl is entirely romantic," she teased.

"I'll make that up to you on your next night off," he prompted.

"Oh, will you now?"

"Yeah," Mickey confirmed feeling unusually bold for the moment. "I will."

"Okay," Martha agreed.

"What?" The boldness vanished. "Really?"

"Yeah," Martha agreed.

"You'll come for a romantic dinner with me?" Mickey didn't quite believe his luck.

"Yeah, I will."

"Like on a proper date?"

"Mickey," Martha laughed. "If you keep on trying to put me off I'll change my mind."

"No, no, don't change your mind," Mickey countered and then laughed.

"So, what do you want to talk about if not your ankle?" Martha asked him. "Though you're not going to be getting away from it for long."

"Um, I don't know?" Mickey thought for a moment. He didn't want to talk about anything to do with work, nothing to do with the Doctor, nothing to do with the ghost. "What football team do you support?"

"Oh, Mickey Smith," Martha groaned and shook her head then laughed. "Spurs, but I am not going to be talking to you about football on our first date," Martha complained.

"You pick then."

"Okay, um, what did you want to be when you grew up?" Martha asked him.

"Oh, that is easy! I wanted to be a formula one track mechanic," Mickey advised Martha.

"Not a race car driver?"

"No, I want to be the one to put the cars together and to make them go faster," Mickey advised.

"So, why aren't you?"

"Life got in the way I guess. I left school at 16 and started an apprenticeship at a local garage, but then it was just working and learning about engines and fixing clapped out bangers. I ended up staying on at the garage when I finished the apprenticeship and I was going to become a partner but then I ended up losing my job."

"How? Why did you lose your job?"

"Things first started to go wrong when they all thought I'd murdered Rose," Mickey offered. "Then when I went to the other universe the all assumed I was dead. I'm lost in this universe and they didn't really have forwarding addresses across the void," Mickey commented.

"So, why not go back to it now? You're smart enough, that much is clear."

"There are more important things than football and formula one aren't there? I mean look at your life here, Martha, you save people's lives every day. I wasn't particularly brave before, and I mean that is probably an understatement. I was a wuss and a gibbering wreck, though to be fair I did get swallowed by a living plastic wheelie bin," Mickey commented and Martha burst out laughing. "Oi!" Mickey exclaimed mocking offence. "It wasn't funny! It wouldn't let me go and then it ate me and I ended up under ground with a pool of liquid goo that talked to me! That was my first day."

"First day?"

"Yeah, first day when your life will never make sense ever again because you've met the Doctor," Mickey commented and nodded toward the sleeping Time Lord.

"Ah, that first day," Martha nodded knowingly. "I went to the moon and was interrogated by a rhino with a gun, and, you got eaten by a wheelie bin?" Martha bit her bottom lip not wanting to laugh too hard and wake either Jack or the Doctor up. Not least of all because she was actually quite enjoying her impromptu date.

"Story of my life," Mickey laughed. "Did you always want to be a doctor?"

"No, not always," Martha admitted. "When I was five I wanted to be a princess."

"And now you're both?" Mickey offered. Martha groaned at him, but he just grinned cheekily.

They ate and drank hot chocolate and chatted freely until Martha yawned and stretched and the groaned slightly when she looked at her watch. "What time is it?" Mickey asked her.

"Ten past three," Martha commented. "I was up from half four. It's been a while since I did a full 24 hours. My feet are killing me!" she complained and then laughed. "I can't wait to get my boots off."

"Take them off," Mickey shrugged.

"I can't just take them off. What if I have to respond?"

"Then you put them back on again," Mickey advised. "You've got medics in both wards and in the HDU and you've got someone doing 15 minute obs down in the East Wing. I think everyone is sound asleep, and, I know he's unwell and I know I'm not the expert or anything, but he's improving isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is."

"Then come on? Boots off," Mickey insisted. He got out his seat and knelt down and unfastened the laces on Martha's boots and then pulled one of them off. "Your feet are tiny!"

"I'd look like a clown with big feet," Martha laughed. Mickey pulled his char round and lifted Martha's foot up into his lap, resting her heel on his thigh as he started to massage her foot. She giggled like a school girl.

"Ah? Ticklish are we?" Mickey laughed. He caught her calf and kept her foot in his lap. "I can get you back for all the nasty things you've done to my ankle."

"Ah, but don't forget I'll still be treating your ankle, so, if you get me back on your next official appointment you will be in trouble," Martha commented.

"Isn't that against the rules or something?"

"What?" Martha asked as Mickey gently pushed his thumbs into the arch of her foot releasing the tension without tickling.

"Being the doctor for someone you're going out with?" Mickey prompted. Martha looked at him. "What?" He winked at her cheekily and then winced biting his bottom lip and looking at her through a single eye.

"Let's just see before we try to find another medic who is not going to freak out and knows how to treat a weevil bite, huh?" Martha commented.

"That?" Mickey grinned. "Is not a no."

"No."

"And, it's not a slap!"

"No," Martha agreed. "Anyone prepared to rub my feet after they've been in boots for 23 hours can't be that bad," Martha offered.

"And, I'm hot right?" Mickey grinned as he regained some confidence that he'd not been blasted out of the water.

"You need a shave," Martha commented, but then reached up to the stubble gracing his cheeks. It was coarse and a couple of days growth.

"I can do that," Mickey offered. He caught Martha's hand and kissed the back of it. He gazed at Martha and was about to lean in for a kiss but she put her finger to his lips and halted him.

"I'm on duty," Martha reminded him. "And, you've got another foot to do first," she reminded him. Mickey patted his lap and Martha swapped feet so that he started to massage the other and they matched.

"Um, Doctor Jones?" Eddie came in from the HDU. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but, could you come down to the HDU?"

"Yes, of course." Martha hurried to put her boots back on and patted Mickey on the shoulder as she went down to the HDU. Mickey sighed. He rested back on his seat and put his hand on his heads and grinned. She'd not said no. He was sure she would tell him that he was an idiot and to forget about it, but she hadn't. She was Martha Jones and she'd not said no to him!

"What are you looking so pleased with yourself for?" Jack asked quietly as he woke from a couple of hours sleep. He wouldn't need any more for a week or more now as long as he didn't die again. Mickey didn't want to be talking over the top of the Doctor and risk waking him up as that would give Martha more to do. He grabbed the cardboard bowl of crisps to offer Jack.

"Are you eating crisps from a sick bowl?"

"Yep," Mickey commented but he had a permanent grin on his face.

"What is up with you?" Jack chuckled.

"She didn't say no."

"What?"

"She didn't say no, Jack." Mickey grinned.

"Who didn't say no?"

"Martha."

"Oh?" Jack looked at him curiously. Well that explained the silly grin plastered on his face. "You mean you actually grew a pair and asked her?"

"Yep, and she didn't say no."

"But, did she say yes?" Jack asked in order to clarify. "Not saying no is not exactly the same as saying yes, is it?"

"I've got a date," Mickey advised proudly.

"You actually did it?" Jack shook his head slightly. "Way to go Mickey Mouse, I didn't think you'd ever get round to it." Jack moved slightly. He didn't mean to and he hardly moved at all, but his arm was under the Doctor and it disturbed the Time Lord. A harsh guttural groan rose up from the depths and erupted from the Time Lord's lips and Mickey winced.

"Oh, I'm sorry Doc, go back to sleep."

"Water?" the Doctor's voice sounded weak and hoarse.

"I'll get you some, Boss." Mickey poured a tiny amount of water into a cup seeing that was what Martha had done before but the Doctor was on his side and it was going to be too awkward. "I'll go and find a straw or something." Mickey went out and to go to the HDU to ask Martha where he'd find some straws but she was discussing something with Cole's family who had just arrived into the hospital.

"Ed? Are there any straws anywhere? The Doctor wants a drink of water," Mickey asked her.

"I'll find one and come through," Eddie offered. She paused and went to Martha. "Doctor Jones, I am sorry to interrupt, but the patient in the next HDU is asking for water. Is he able to accept fluids?" Eddie checked.

"If he feels able to, but he has been nauseous, so that needs to be taken into account," Martha confirmed.

"I will see to him."

"Thank you."

Eddie got a straw from the kitchen area and then went into the recovery room. "Wow, are we that packed we're doing two to a bed now?" Eddie chuckled.

"He's… warm."

"Ah, so that is the excuse is it?" Eddie teased and then looked to Mickey. "Was Martha cold too?" she teased him and Mickey blushed. "Martha has said you can have a drink but only a small one until we're sure you're not going to be sick."

"Thanks…" The Doctor sipped some water through a straw. He felt ferociously thirsty, but the fluid didn't settle as well as he hoped. He worried he was going to be sick. Eddie must have seen the look on his face change because she reached for the nearest sick bowl. She got it there just in time as the Doctor gagged. He spewed the water straight back up again as he grimaced and groaned. His stomach knotted and he gagged and heaved. Jack sat so he could rub his back as Mickey stroked his shoulder. The Time Lord grimaced as the pain in his leg rose again making him gasp and contort.

"What's hurting Doc?" Jack asked. "Is it your kidney again?"

"Leg… ow… Jack?" the Doctor whimpered. He felt so unwell all over. His head hurt, his chest hurt, his side hurt, his back hurt, his kidneys hurt though it was not the kind of pain that made him want to scream now. That was reserved for his leg. It was awful.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart, try and go back to sleep." Jack caressed his head. "Go back to sleep." Jack tucked the blanket around him and held him as the Doctor moaned in pain until exhaustion and weakness took him back to sleep again. Only once he'd gone back to sleep did anyone comment on the fact that the sick bowl that Eddie had grabbed for him to spew in had been filled with salt and vinegar crisps. Eddie just shook her head and went and put them in the appropriate disposal unit.


	51. Chapter 51

After talking to Cole's family and assuring them that he was improving and that really they should go and book into the accommodations set up for them until the morning, Martha went back into the Doctor's room. She was briefed on him waking up and being asleep again after throwing up his mouthful of water and being in pain with his leg. Martha remained concerned for the Doctor but he was improving, if more slowly than she'd hoped. No one had really expected him to be so ill for so long.

It was just after four when Anita came back in. She was surprised to see Mickey still up as well as Martha. She was sure he would have given up and gone to bed. Jack was resting as much as he could considering he remained in the Time Lord's bed. It was now Martha's turn to try and get some rest. She did a hand over to Anita indicating the Doctor had been sick again. He was not going to dehydrate so maybe if he felt like he wanted a drink then then next time they could give him an ice cube to let melt in his mouth rather than actually have him drink.

Martha was going to go and get a few hours sleep in the back of the East Wing so she could do a brief check on Colonel Mace. If the Doctor was better in the morning she'd move him back down or have to think about moving the Colonel up so he did not get forgotten.

"So, are you off duty now?" Mickey asked Martha as he caught up with her in the corridor after getting a pointed nod in that direction from the Captain.

"Once I've checked on Colonel Mace I will be off duty," Martha commented. Mickey slid his hand into hers as they walked down the deserted corridor. No one had tried to hold her hand like that since she'd travelled with the Doctor. The Time Lord was a hand holder even if he'd not have known romance if it had come up and bit him on the nose. Mickey's hand was larger, rougher, but it felt nice as it closed around hers.

Mickey waited while Martha went in and checked on Colonel Mace. He was sleeping comfortably and she was happy with his condition so she did not remain in there long in case she managed to disturb him. Rather than head out of the East Wing they then headed through the communal area that had been turned into triage earlier and had not yet fully returned back to the communal area.

"You've got a bedroom back here?" Mickey checked.

"I've got an office too. If we're got patients that are quarantined we sometimes end up quarantined with them so it is important we can do all we need when in here whether that is work or rest," Martha advised Mickey.

When they went into the room it had not been touched during the crisis from when Martha had slept a few hours in there the night before. Once they were inside and the door was closed Martha turned to face Mickey. She put her hands on his chest and then leant up to kiss him lightly on the lips. It was not tentative but it was deep and it too Mickey a bit by surprise. There was no complaint about immediately wandering hands and Mickey was also surprised that the immediately wandering hands were not his but Martha's.

"I've wanted you…" Martha kissed his neck and bit the soft flesh gently. "…since you pulled that gun on Davros," Martha admitted. "You took your time in asking."

Mickey woke when there was a knocking on the door. He was about to call out to find out what was going on thinking for a moment that it was Jack and he was in Torchwood, but then as he turned he felt Martha lying against him. She was tucked into the crook of his arm with one arm draped over his bare chest. There were clothing lying in a trail from the door to the room to the bed. It hadn't just been a dream.

"Martha?" Mickey whispered and shook her awake gently and with a whisper and indicated to the door where there was another knock.

"I'm awake," Martha called out. "I'll be a minute."

"Sorry, Doctor Jones, it's 09.30hrs and Major Proctor wants a briefing at 10.00hrs."

"Thanks Gerald," Martha recognised his voice instantly. "I'll be right out." She hadn't meant to sleep that long, but she almost felt worse for it as she sat up. Her body ached with the events of the day before. The ache between her legs was a welcome change.

"Do you have to get up?" Mickey asked. "You're still knackered.

"I've got work to do. You can stay here a while longer if you want to?"

"No, if you need to get up then so do I."

"There is no point us both being exhausted," Martha commented and caressed his cheek and then kissed him. It was the kiss Mickey needed to confirm that he'd somehow not dreamt his way naked into Martha's bed and that she was not now regretting waking together. It was a kiss that promised more to come and Mickey smiled.

"I'll find you some breakfast," Mickey insisted and got up with her. Martha redressed and found Mickey some clean clothes to put on. There was a selection of UNIT medical tracksuits in the room depending on who was resting in there and there were some to fit him. She got a pack of mints from her drawer and took a couple herself and offered some to Mickey too. She wasn't going to have to shower and freshen up properly.

"Do you have to rush?" Mickey asked.

"If the Major wants a report at 10.00hrs then I need to get the update in order to give him the report."

"Can't someone else do it? Someone else who has not been up most of the night?"

"Like who?" Martha asked him. "Everyone was up most of the night, or, have just arrived in so don't have the appropriate information. I'm fine. We will have more time to rest today and we should be back to normal by tonight. It will be another busy day for us, but hopefully nothing like yesterday."

"Okay," Mickey accepted. "Do you want me to follow you out in five minutes?" he asked Martha.

"Why would I want that?" Martha asked. She kissed him on the cheek. "Let's go." They left the back room together. In his head there was a crowd of people standing waiting for them to emerge ready to clap and whoop and suitably embarrass yet congratulate them. In reality the East Wing was totally deserted and they went out into the main area. Martha went into the side room before leaving the wing.

"Good Morning, Alan, how are you feeling?" Martha checked. The Colonel had a tray with a half-eaten bowl of oatmeal and a decaffeinated coffee that just made him even more determined to get out of there as soon as possible. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you, Martha," the Colonel confirmed.

"And how is the pain this morning?"

"It is manageable."

"Are you using your clicker as needed?"

"Yes."

"Good. I will be back to check on your wound after I've given my brief."

"Okay," Colonel Mace accepted. "Are you okay Martha? How much sleep did you get?"

"About three and a half hours I think. I'm okay. I will get some more early this afternoon, I hope."

"How is the Doctor?"

"He had a very rough night, but I'm hoping he has slept the last few hours. I've not been called to him so I hope he is still recovering. I hope you will get your roomy back for lunch," she teased the Colonel slightly. "Since he's been throwing up we will wait until that stops before we inflict him on you again. I will be back shortly. Has Marion been in this morning?"

"She popped in early, but she has a duty shift this morning. She will be in this afternoon."

"I am sure she will be able to get shift covered won't she under the circumstances?"

"She wants to carry on with her duties."

"Okay," Martha confirmed. She went down to ward one and checked the condition of everyone in there. Then she went into ward two and did the same. She went into the HDU and checked on the more seriously injured. She only had the Doctor left to check on when Major Proctor came out of the medical board room.

"Doctor Jones? We're waiting for you. You're late," Major Proctor announced with no other greeting.

"I have one more patient to see and then I will be with you, Major."

"You will make yourself available now, Doctor Jones."

"I will be ready to provide you with my update when I have the information required for my update."

"Your tardiness is unacceptable. I understand a Junior Medic had to raise you from your bed this morning?" he commented and checked his watch as if trying to demonstrate a point.

"I was tending to the sick until half past four this morning, Major."

"Then you can come and provide an update. The sooner you do that the sooner we can all get on. We all have a lot of things to do."

"A lot to do?" Martha just looked at him. "You turn up today with a lot to do? With all due respect you should have tried being here yesterday!" Martha snapped at him. "Now, I am going to see how my patient is and then I will come and provide you with an update."

"Who is this patient?"

"The Doctor."

"Then his condition is irrelevant to the briefing as he was not injured during the attack. He has not been left without medical care. You can come and provide your update and check on his condition after," Major Proctor insisted. "I have the Brigadier waiting on the line from Peru, do you want to keep him waiting any longer?"

"No Sir, but I am sure he will want a current update on the Doctor's condition."

"We are discussing the matter of yesterday's attack," Major Proctor reminded her.

"Fine." Martha went into the room. Captain Price was in there and so was Major Starkey. They had both heard the interchange between Major Proctor and the doctor as it had taken just outside the room. They looked to Martha with a degree of sympathy. Major Proctor was obviously in a foul mood having had his holiday ruined and been air lifted off a cruise ship leaving his family behind to continue with their holiday and then coming back to find the base to be in what he considered a complete state of disarray.

"Connect us through now we are all here," Major Proctor instructed to Captain Price.

"Yes Sir," Captain Price put the call through to the Brigadier.

"Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart speaking."

"Good Morning, Sir, this is Major Proctor. Present in the room are Captain Price."

"Good Morning, Brigadier," Captain Price confirmed.

"Morning Marion, how is Alan doing?"

"He is resting comfortably, Sir."

"Jolly good, now that is a relief," the Brigadier advised. "I am sure he will be back on his feet and regaining some semblance of order soon enough," he offered. It was unclear if that was intended as a jibe towards Major Proctor but Martha had some slight satisfaction in the thought that it might be.

"Sir, if we can get on? Major Starkey is also present due to her involvement yesterday as temporary base commander."

"And a fine job done in difficult circumstances, you should be commended, Major Starkey," the Brigadier's voice boomed over the speaker phone.

"Thank you, Sir, but Captain Jack Harkness acting as Torchwood Liaison was instrumental in ensuring that the incident was resolved as safely as possible."

"And is he present? I should like to speak with him personally."

"He is currently with the Doctor, Sir Alistair," Martha told him and looked to Major Proctor.

"Good Morning, Martha. You sound tired. You are not here after being up all night are you?"

"Not all night, Sir, I retired at 04.30hrs."

"And that is certainly less than the 8.00hr prescribed rest break. Why was this briefing not delayed to a more appropriate time?" the Brigadier asked over the phone.

"I thought it pertinent to carry it out in a timely manner, Sir," Major Proctor commented.

"I see, well, before we get down to business to your pertinent time frame, how is the old dog this morning?"

"Sir?" Major Proctor asked.

"The Doctor," the Brigadier confirmed. "How is he? Martha?" the Brigadier asked her directly. "I received some particularly detailed reports authored by a young Private Coates yesterday."

"I am sorry, Sir, he is a standard cadet status recruit. He should not have been reporting to you," Major Proctor announced.

"I believe he was directed to compile the reports and I wished to receive them."

"Well, I shall find out who gave such orders and ensure that they are dealt with, Sir," Major Proctor suggested.

"Good luck with that, son, since I know the orders were given by Alan Mace," the Brigadier commented. "And, fine reports they were too. Of a better quality than I have seen in quite some time. Certainly better than those received over the past three months, but that is beside the point. They detailed some of the ways in which my base was saved by Torchwood and by an injured Time Lord, so, Doctor Jones, I would quite like to know how the Doctor is doing this morning. A report indicated that he saved a UNIT soldier and a civilian and that his injury worsened during the process."

"Yes Sir, while apprehending the Harlequin Ghost there was an incident in his room. The fracture in his leg compounded which means that the bone end pierced the skin. It was a serious complication and required urgent surgery to repair. Unfortunately there was an interaction with some off world analgesia he had been given and the general anaesthesia. He became very sick, Sir. He went into respiratory and cardiac failure, but we have managed to stabilise his condition. The treatment regime in order to do that has left him very anaemic and has caused him to endure a bout of kidney stones."

"Kidney stones?"

"Yes Sir."

"Remember when I got them, Marion?" the Brigadier asked Captain Price over the phone. "It was before your time Martha, I was crawling around the floor like a pig and howling like a rabid dog. I'd rather be shot again than endure that."

"It is described as one of the most painful conditions," Martha confirmed. "The Doctor suffered a great deal from it. I had to perform a procedure in order to remove the trapped stones. He did settle a bit after that, but he remains unwell. He was in pain with his leg and he was nauseous. He went to sleep just before 04.00hrs."

"And how is the poor old soul this morning?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, I have not yet had an update on the Doctor this morning." Martha admitted.

"Why on Earth not?"

"It was not deemed pertinent to the brief," Major Proctor commented. "His injury and illness is separate to the attack."

"Let me tell you something, Sonny, the Doctor was saving this Planet with UNIT when you were still in nappies and he is a personal friend of mine and of UNIT. I have also had reports indicating that he was instrumental in the identification and the capture of the Harlequin Ghost. I suggest that you re-evaluate what you believe to be pertinent and stop wasting my time with incomplete briefings. We will reconvene in one hour's time. Doctor Jones, go and get yourself some breakfast and find out what you need to know."

"Yes Sir," Martha stated. "Thank you."

"Major Proctor."

"Sir?"

"Colonel Mace is not able to put base command into the hands of Torchwood, but I can. If you do not get with it and return to this briefing in one hour without your head up your own backside then I will remove you from command. I am sorry if you have just come off a cruise ship, but you are off that ship and you need to spare some thought for those who were not on holiday during the slaughter and were not tucked up in bed at four this morning."

"Yes Sir."

"We will reconvene in an hour," Sir Alistair announced. The call was terminated by him at his end so that it came through as a dial tone. Martha got up to leave.

"You knew he would ask that didn't you?" Major Proctor grabbed Martha's arm to halt her and stop her from leaving.

"You should have asked that." Martha shrugged him off. "And, I am going to find out. Do not try to stop me from doing my job again," Martha warned the Major. "If you do I will submit a formal report. The welfare of my patients far outweighs your need for a briefing. You can get any information you need to do your job from Major Starkey," Martha advised him. She knew that he was seething and she knew that he blamed her for getting him into trouble with the Brigadier when providing her five minutes to see the Doctor would have solved the issue. She knew that the Brigadier would ask about him, but she also thought that Major Proctor should have. She was not going to be cowed by him just because he was a Major. That was not how it worked and if she had to then she would go over his head to get what her patients needed. "The medical care of the patients here is my concern and my responsibility and I will pull rank on you every single time if I have to. Is that understood?"

"Ma'am." Major Proctor nodded and stalked off to tend to his wounded pride.

Martha took a deep breath and shook her frustrations. It was a common problem whenever Colonel Mace was not directly in charge that medical wasn't seen as the priority that it should be. It wasn't just on that base either. In New York it had been the same. Her medical duties had frequently been relegated in favour of providing tactical information. Mace seemed to be the exception.

She went into the temporary HDU where the Doctor was. She expected the Doctor to be curled up with Jack and be asleep or crying in pain. Instead he was in bed alone and he was sitting up a little. It was about 45 degrees. He had pillows supporting and propping him up. His leg was raised on more pillows. He had a T-shirt on again and an oxygen line to his nose rather than a mask.

He still had two drips running into his left arm providing him with medication and a nutritional boost that had been provided by the TARDIS to help support and flush his systems through. Martha was more pleased to see that he had a mug of tea resting loosely in his hand and resting on his abdomen and there was ¾ of a banana folded back into its skin on the side of the bed.

He was alert because he looked over when she went into the room. He looked like a ghost. His features were sunken and his eyes were bruised. The indigo bruising on the left side of his face looked bad and his hair was lank and a bit greasy from all the stroking. He smiled weakly as Martha went over to his bedside.

"Well, you're looking a bit better than the last time I saw you," Martha commented positively.

"Yeah, thank you," the Doctor croaked. His voice was ruined.

"Ooo," Martha winced on his behalf. "Sore throat?"

"It's keeping him quiet," Jack announced. "Anita said she's going to make him some honey, ginger, and lemon tea."

"It'll be sore from the tube and being sick," Martha commented.

"And all the screaming," Jack added.

"That too. I'm glad that seems to have stopped. How is the pain this morning? Apart from the sore throat?"

"My leg is bad, but it's better than before the surgery," the Doctor sounded really husky as he spoke. It would have been really unprofessional to giggle at him, so Martha refrained. "You can laugh," the Doctor squeaked. "This lot have been."

"Aww, it's not funny," Martha scolded Jack. "What about the rest of you? How are you feeling in general?"

"I've still got a headache, but I think that is from listening to Jack going on and on," the Doctor commented, but then smiled at Martha as Jack grumbled.

"What about the renal colic? Has that gone?"

"Not completely. I feel a bit tender, but not like it was. I was sure I was going to die. Thank you for looking after me."

"Are you fully aware of what happened and why we had the problems yet?" Martha asked him.

"Yeah," the Doctor confirmed. "Jack and Anita explained it to me. I am so sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"I didn't even think about it. I had no idea that it could be a problem. I should have thought," the Doctor suggested. "There is little doubt that you saved my life after that."

"Well, I'm pleased you seem to be on the mend. It was a totally unforeseen complication so you don't need to apologise, but, we know what happened and how to avoid it. Have we done your blood count yet this morning?"

"Not while I've been awake," the Doctor offered. "I know it's low. I can feel it."

"You've had 3 units of blood from the TARDIS," Martha told him. "It did not seem to be as effective at combatting the anaemia as I expected."

"No, it's not that good," the Doctor advised. "The preserved blood cells only last a short while. Unless it is critical it is usually better just to let my body combat it. It shouldn't take too long."

"Okay, good, and how are you feeling in yourself?"

"Worn out, a bit breathless still, weak and a little pathetic."

"Aww," Martha rubbed his shoulder. "That is going to be the combination of things, but the anaemia as well will be causing some fatigue," Martha pulled his chart out and had a look at the last results. He was still quite anaemic, but he was recovering slowly. "How is the nausea?"

"It comes and goes in waves."

"But, you're able to drink tea?"

"I've been sipping it. It's staying down. I had a bit of a banana too, but that was a bit too close. I didn't throw it back up but it didn't really want to stay down."

"We will see how you do for the rest of the morning. If you remain nauseous we can give you something to help settle your stomach, but we want to avoid all but the most necessary medications until we've been able to fully assess your renal function. You're receiving the NA1Z and Bladamine at the moment, but that is all," Martha told him. "When you've had enough of your tea, then you should try sucking a couple of these." She handed him the mints that she'd picked up out of her room. "The peppermint may assist."

"Thanks."

"How badly is your leg hurting you at the moment?"

"It is better than it has been, but it remains incredibly painful. I can't think about moving it or anything."

"Do you want to try a different position?" Martha asked him.

"I don't think it is the position, it just hurts," the Doctor commented. He didn't want to risk moving and it being worse than what it was where it was.

"Have you seen James yet this morning?"

"Pft, no."

"He will probably want to come in and check how your leg is."

"He's not going to want to touch it is he?"

"No, I shouldn't think so. Not today."

"Good."

"Is there anything you need?" Martha asked him. "Do you want a book or anything?"

"I've still got a bit of a headache," he reminded her. "I tried to read a report from Ethan that I'd not seen yet but it made me feel quite dizzy."

"Let's just check you're doing okay then," Martha suggested. "With all the problems with your leg and the surgery we tend to forget that you've got eleven stitches in your head as well," Martha commented. "The state of your face should be the reminder we need, shouldn't it?" She got her pen light out. "Look straight ahead for me?" She checked his pupil response and the wound on his head. The scalp around the cut had started to bruise up but she didn't think there was anything untoward. It was just going to be the anaemia and heart failure causing him the dizziness. "That all looks okay. How is your chest feeling?"

"Sore, Anita said I have a broken rib?"

"Yeah, you do. I did that." Martha pulled a face. "Sorry."

"Oh, so not only did you poison me with contraindicated drugs but then you beat me up as well?" the Doctor croaked.

"Yeah, I did," Martha nodded.

"I don't feel as bad about throwing up in your crisps then," the Doctor commented.

"Did you?"

"Apparently," the Doctor barely remembered anything about being suck, but Jack had found it incredibly funny. "I'm sorry."

"What on Earth are you sorry for, Doctor?" Martha asked. They were the ones who had messed up his medications and almost killed him. "All you need to do is rest and recover," Martha told him. "I think it is going to take you a while, but what do you think about moving back into the room with Alan?" Martha asked him. "Alan is all on his own down in the East Wing and I don't want to put him on a ward with his men, but I need someone in with him who will keep him in line. I don't expect you to do that now because it's clear you're still not well, but in a couple of days? And, I'd quite like Jack to remain in with both of you?"

"I don't mind, but I don't want to bore him if I sleep. I'm tired."

"Do you want to lie back down a bit more and get some more sleep?" Martha asked him.

"Yes please."

"Then why didn't you say?" Martha scolded. "Pass me that." She reached for the tea. The Doctor barely had the strength to meet her half way with the cup and his hand was shaking. Martha rubbed his shoulder. "If you need to sleep then you need to tell us lot to bugger off and leave you alone."

"I didn't want to until I'd said thank you," the Doctor whispered.

"You're welcome, do you know what you can do to make it all up to me?"

"What?"

"Get yourself better," Martha offered. "And, let u know what you need when you need it."

"I need to sleep."

"There you go," Martha put her hand to his cheek. "That wasn't hard was it?" she teased him slightly. She lowered his bed back down a bit but she did not put him totally flat because he'd been nauseous. He was swamped in pillows still, but he seemed comfortable because he was back asleep within thirty seconds. Martha straightened out the thermal blankets around him to help keep him warm.

"He's still pretty ill isn't he?" Jack sighed quietly.

"Yeah, he is, but we're going in the right direction and we're going to get there. I'm more sure of that now than I was earlier." Martha went to the head of the Doctor's bed. She pulled a slide to the right so that an amber section of the bed frame was visible. It had been green before, though Jack had paid it no heed.

"What does that mean?" Jack asked knowing it was a visual clue to something that Martha was now adding to the Doctor's medical record. He already had a red band around his wrist and another red band on his medical notes to indicate that he was not to be medicated.

"It's an indicator that he should not be woken unless there is a serious concern. No one will wake him up to find out if he wants a cup of tea or something to eat, they will just let him sleep and make sure that if he does want something to eat and drink it will be to his timetable rather than ours," Martha advised. "He needs to sleep as much as he needs until he recovers." Martha went back and caressed his head for a moment, she seemed deep in thought. Jack saw how tired she looked.

"Are you okay?" Jack checked.

"What would we have done if we'd lost him, Jack?" Martha asked him quietly. "He almost died yesterday while under my care."

"I don't know what we'd do," Jack admitted. "I guess I will find out one day. I'll see all his future faces and then I'll lose him altogether."

"Oh, well there is a happy thought to start the day with," Mickey commented as he came in. He had a tray of bacon butties with him. "Breakfast?"

"How did you manage to get them?" Martha asked as she took one as did the Captain. They were both ravenous.

"I sweet talked Anita," Mickey advised.

"Oh, did you now?" Martha raised an eyebrow and then laughed. Mickey grinned cheekily.

"So, where did you disappear off to last night, Mickey Mouse?" Jack asked him with a knowing twinkle in his eye. "You disappeared off at the same time as Martha did and didn't come back again?"

"That," Mickey announced. "Is none of your business."

"Bout bloody time," Jack advised and then grinned. He would have normally taken anyone to one side and have given them the 'you mess with Martha and you mess with me' speech. He'd given it to that Tom bastard who had dumped her by email from Africa, though she'd been far from heartbroken by the revelation. Jack thought she'd seemed more relieved by it. He didn't have to give the talk to Mickey that talk because he knew he'd look after her.

Martha left Mickey and Jack to demolish the rest of the bacon sandwiches confirming it was highly unlikely that the Doctor would want anything and if he did regret not having bacon to tempt him and then throw up then they could make them fresh to order for him later on. She went through to her office and picked up her electronic tablet. She then went back to the medical board room to go through her messages and wait for the meeting to start again. By the time she had been through all her messages, forwarded the stock requests and the pharmacy requisitions through to their suppliers, it was time to start all over again. Everyone came in and took their seats, Captain Price came and sat beside Martha this time.

"Are you okay, love?" Captain Price asked her informally.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thank you."

"I told Alan what happened earlier, not officially, but he says if you want to make it formal then you should go and see him about it."

"I dealt with it," Martha offered. "He can handle the military side of things well, better than anyone else who is fit and able and a member of UNIT. Jack is good in a crisis, but he's not UNIT and he's more focused on the Doctor. As long as he stays out the way of medical and he doesn't cross me or my staff again then he can do what he wants. He tries to make me look inefficient or out of touch again and then I will bop him on the nose," Martha commented and laughed. She and Captain Price were still laughing when Major Proctor came back in.

"Well, I see someone is in a better mood," he commented and went to take the head of the table. Martha opened her mouth to respond to him, but Captain Price just put her hand on her arm and shook her head slightly. They could get the meeting out of the way and then let him go and polish his boots and his gun if he wanted to.

"Right, are we ready this time?" Major Proctor asked and then opened the line through to the Brigadier.

"Right, good morning, should we start again?" Sir Alistair asked. "Doctor Jones?"

"Yes Sir?"

"Your update on our mutual Time Lord friend please. I have been most concerned since talking to him yesterday. The poor old chap did not sound himself."

"No Sir, and this morning he sounds considerably worse. He has an inflamed throat due to intubation and nausea," Martha advised. "It is keeping him quiet. He is however more alert. He has managed to keep down about a third of a mug of tea and a bite of a banana, but he remains nauseous and he is exhausted. He's very weak and feeling pretty wretched with a headache, broken rib, and renal colic on top of the leg injury. He is however improved compared to his condition following surgery and is able to communicate. Though he is exhausted and he has gone back to sleep. It will be important for him to rest until he regains his strength."

"A broken rib you say? Is that from his bed tipping escapades?"

"No Sir, I did that during lifesaving treatment."

"Did he require CPR?" They could hear the level of concern in the Brigadier's voice go up a notch.

"While we did have to attempt CPR on him, that is now what caused the rib fracture. A device designed to give simultaneous injections of adrenaline to his hearts was utilised. It is a high pressure device and we had to use that to bring him out of heart failure. It was during the use of that device that a rib was broken. It is of course uncomfortable for him, but it is not a serious injury and requires no intervention."

"And it is better than him being dead," Sir Alistair added. "Or regenerated."

"Yes, Sir. I am concerned he would not be able to regenerate at the moment. His body temperature is reduced and he is feeling cold. I am concerned that is linked with his regeneration cycle and the amount of healing he has to do, but I have not had a chance to discuss that with him yet. I do believe that had he been able to regenerate then he may well have done so whilst in heart failure following the surgery. I've not discussed that with him yet."

"Why not?"

"He needed to sleep, Sir."

"Ah yes, very well, thank you. If you require any assistance or resource to tend to the Doctor in addition to what you have normally available then you advise Major Proctor immediately and he will endeavour to make it available as a priority," the Brigadier instructed. It was a double instruction, given both to Martha and to the Major.

"Yes Sir, thank you Sir."

"Is that clear, Major?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good, now, shall we continue with the brief? Where are we with the evaluation of the alien hostile, the Harlequin Ghost? Perhaps you could fill us in Major?"

"Er, yes, Sir."

They went through all the details on the matter regarding the ghost. Martha, Major Starkey, and Captain Price provided the majority of the information. Then Martha gave a full update on all the soldiers who had been killed, the medics that had been killed, and then the injured starting from the most serious to those who had already been released back onto light duties. Martha then went through the psychological impact and three officers who were suffering particularly with what had been witnessed during the Harlequin attack.

"Alright, thank you all for your stunning work as usual. I know I can count on your all. Unless there are any further matters to be discussed?"

"Sir Alistair, there is another matter I would like to bring to the table," Major Proctor advised.

"What is that, Major?"

"Some newspaper reports that have been brought to my attention, Sir." Major Proctor pulled three daily papers from his folder and put them on the table. "I shall read the headlines to you, Sir. The first reads: Zombie Alien at UNIT, the second reads: Soldiers Slaughtered by UNIT Alien, and the third reads: UNIT attacked from within. These are the second page stories on three of the tabloid papers, Sir," Major Proctor commented. "This is what happens when we have civilians working our cases," he muttered.

"I'm sorry? What did you just say?" Martha didn't bite her tongue this time. "What is what happens when civilians work for UNIT and which civilians do you happen to be talking about? Because the only civilians I know who have been working on behalf of UNIT happened to save all of our backsides. Are you accusing one of the Torchwood liaisons of leaking information to the press?" Martha asked him directly.

"Civilian Liaison? That isn't even real, and neither is a Torchwood Liaison. Since when did we call Torchwood for help?"

"Captain Jack Harkness was already on site to assist with the Doctor, he was not called in."

"The Doctor? Now, that is a whole other story too isn't it? The world stop because he breaks his leg? UNIT rules go out the window and civilians are granted security clearance? Forget the children running around with full clearance, that is bad enough, but civilians and look at what happened? Look at the results!"

"So, you are accusing the civilians of talking to the press?" Martha challenged.

"From what I can gather one of them is the press! A journalist who was here for the entire period of the attack!"

"Yes, that is the case," Martha confirmed.

"Who is this journalist who was on site?"

"Miss Sarah Jane Smith, Sir," Martha told him.

"Well, Miss Smith would not leak information. From what I understand Captain Harkness was instrumental in dealing with and containing the Harlequin ghost based on information provided by the Doctor, so even if the world does stop because he is hurt he does not does he? Major Proctor, I expect to see a full investigatory report into the information leaked to the press within the next 48 hours."

"Yes Sir."

"Are you happy with everything else?"

"About the civilians Sir?" Major Proctor prompted not wanting to have them on site.

"Yes, quite," the Brigadier stated. "Captain Price, if you could arrange special commendation for them please. It is about time we looked at forming some kind of professional relationship with Torchwood and with Miss Smith. Perhaps this accidental liaison can be the first step toward a more mutual sharing of information. We are after all very much on the same side," Sir Alistair suggested. Martha tried to swallow a smile when she saw the look on Major Proctor's face. "Perhaps you could get that young man, is it Private Coates?" the Brigadier checked. "Yes, that is right, he submitted the very comprehensive reports, perhaps you could task him with preparing a paper on how we could liaise with other agencies rather them hacking us and us hacking them."

"Sir."

"Is that everything?"

"Yes Sir."

"I may not be contactable for the rest of the day," the Brigadier advised. "Use my mobile if you need to try to get hold of me."

"Yes Sir."

Major Proctor gathered the papers up. He went to put them in the folder but he looked at Martha. "I will be talking to the civilians about this. I have been tasked to conduct an investigation, you heard the Brigadier."

"Yes, I did, and I am sure that they will be cooperative," Martha confirmed. "But they did not leak information. I sincerely hope that when you talk to all of the relatives of the dead and injured who have received some of the briefing about what happened that you will do so with due deference to the emotional nature. I do not want to hear of you making accusations. You have a complex investigation to complete," Martha advised. "You need to show the appropriate level of respect and consideration regardless of their age, their rank, and their affiliation with UNIT. If you discuss any matters with the injured then you seek medical authorisation first and take all circumstances into consideration," Martha instructed. "I am not having you cause undue stress to anyone who has been involved in the events of the last 24 hours. Is that clear?"

"It is clear, however, I believe you to be behaving in an over-zealous and over protective manner, Doctor Jones."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Then men and women here who have seen action before will not need the kind of protections you insist upon and it will only cause us additional issues with the debrief."

"Come here," Martha took the Major back into the briefing room. There were screens on the wall and she turned one of them on. She connected it to a tablet and she accessed her picture files. There were some photographs that had been taken of the deceased to aid with autopsy and identification. She was not going to put any of the living up, but she put a couple of the pictures up on the screen. "While you were on your cruise ship this is what we were dealing with. We were dealing with a creature that we believed was dead and who inflicted the damage you see around the hospital wing and these injuries, not with weapons but with its bare hands. This," Martha changed the image. "This is a photograph of a young man," Martha advised him showing him a photo of Blue Rigsby but one where there was no identifying marks, largely because his face had been ripped away to the skull. "And, do you know what the worst part of that is?"

"What?" Major Proctor felt quite sickened.

"He was not dead," Martha told the Major. "He was not dead. He did not die until yesterday evening. My staff and the officers sent in to deal with the incident witnessed nothing short of a blood bath. I am sorry that your holiday was interrupted. I am sorry that a member of Torchwood had to get involved and you do not approve of that, but we'd be looking at a far worse situation today if they were not. Everyone behaved to their best abilities and far beyond anything that would have been expected of them. They did not go into a planned exercise with briefings and strategies and equipment ready to be deployed, an alien woke up in the middle of the autopsy lab and started by killing two of my staff and my friends who were conducting that autopsy. There was no precedent, there was no brief, and there were no teams ready on standby. It all just happened and they all dealt with it and they all did brilliantly, so, don't you dare come in today and try to tell people that they did not. I know you like things to be neat and planned, but sometimes they are not and they are messy and we have to do the best that we can and hope. Life is not neat."

"No," Major Proctor stated and then sighed. "No it is not. I will be arranging the first group debrief at 15.00hrs. Please make yourself available."


	52. Chapter 52

Martha headed into the HDU and checked that everyone in there remained stable. They did. She was caught by Richard's brother who had arrived and was sitting by his bead. Martha hoped she wasn't going to have to go through any difficult conversations, but all his brother wanted to do was thank her for doing the emergency chest drain and saving his life. Martha deflected the credit as it was what any medic would have done and her team had ensured Richard had a good chance of surviving and making a good recovery.

She went through her wards and she went and checked on Colonel Mace before coming back and checking on the Doctor.

"How did your briefing go?" Jack asked Martha. He'd heard tales of briefing from Martha and had frustrating she found it at times. She muttered something about pig headedness but Jack didn't catch it all. "That good huh? I've already had my warning," Jack commented and raised his eyebrows.

"Warning?"

"Yeah, not to expect to have free run and to get involved with everything now that there is a trained base commander on site."

"Did he? Was that Proctor?" Martha asked.

"The man himself."

"He has so much bloody front!" Martha exclaimed. "What did you say to him?"

"I advised him that since I had already contained and killed the threat that I would quite happily leave the bullshit paperwork to him and remain with the Doctor as I had intended when I arrived," Jack advised.

"In those words?"

"Mostly those words," Jack confirmed. "I thought I was relatively calm about it."

"I'm surprised you didn't just deck him."

"I would have done but I don't want to wake him up, or, to get chucked off the base," Jack offered. "I need to be here for him." He indicated toward the Doctor.

"Has he remained asleep since I left?"

"Yeah," Jack confirmed. "It's strange to see him so still and quiet. James came in to have a look at his leg but he elected not to wake up. We need to contact him when he wakes. I'm not sure how he will feel about seeing James today."

"Unfortunately his leg needs to be dealt with," Martha offered. "We need to be careful the cast does not get too tight over his knee and ankle since it has not been split yet since the surgery." Martha went to the Doctor and pulled the blanket away from his leg. She checked the colour of his toes and of the skin showing around the pins now poking through the sides of his leg.

"James said it looks okay for now."

"It does, but he will need the pins cleaned and the cast split when he is awake. We can't leave it too much longer." Martha commented and then yawned. "Hmmm, sorry."

"Why don't you go and get some more shut-eye?" Jack suggested. "You look beat."

"I have loads to do," Martha advised.

"Surely there is someone else who can do it?"

"Yeah, but they are all busy as well. It should settle down a bit again by tomorrow. I'll be in my office if you need me," Martha advised.

Martha went into her office. There was a stack of paperwork in the in-tray just inside the door and another stack of mail that had been delivered. Some of the paperwork and all of the mail from the day before, at least with it being Sunday she was unlikely to have any new mail or issues from administration to deal with. She pulled the piles together and she took them to the desk. The first thing she came across was a request from Doctor Wilson to attend a new science conference on pharmacology in myocardial infarction. It would be a good series of lectures for him to attend, except he was dead. Martha sighed heavily. She knew that Luke Wilson's wife had been told of his death, but she had not seen her come in and she had not spoken to her yet. She would have to go and visit her and her daughter. She'd done so plenty of times while Luke had been alive. The same for Walt and for Maggie.

Martha put her head in her hands and tried to mentally draft what she would even think about saying. What could she say? They were her colleagues and her friends and they'd barely had the chance to acknowledge they were gone never mind grieve their loss. That was still going to have to be later. She couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if the Doctor had not turned up injured. She would have gone ahead with the autopsy. Would she now be dead? It seemed likely that whatever dormancy it was in the threat of autopsy would have raised the Harlequin. She would be dead, so would Gerald, and if the Doctor had not been there in order to assist with information and Jack had not been there to assist with coordination, then what? How many more would have died? Would that thing have got off the base? And why did it still feel unfinished even though the ghost was deceased and on ice?

There was a knock on her office door and Mickey poked his head in. "I've brought you a coffee," Mickey offered.

"Thank you," Martha forced a smile and accepted the steaming mug of creamed coffee. She cleared a pile of papers and found the coaster from underneath.

"Is there anything I can do?" Mickey checked with her.

"No, I've just got to work my way through this lot," she indicated to the pile or paperwork.

"Can't it wait under the circumstances?"

"Some of it probably can and some of it will have to, but, other bits can't so I need to go through it in order to prioritise and to deal with what is urgent. At least I got the standard pharmacy orders in on Friday night while the Doctor was here or we might not be getting our normal order tomorrow morning. We've gone into our emergency stocks with a lot of the trauma gear so we need to get them all ordered up and ready to be delivered as a priority. I can't be running a hospital that has run out of bandages or suture kits." Martha rubbed the back of her neck. It seemed mundane looking at the orders and the duty roster but she had to. She had to contact the members of the clinics who might have realised they'd be cancelled in not urgent.

Mickey moved round to the back of her desk. "What are you doing?" Martha asked him, but he put his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed the tight muscles. "I need to work, Mickey."

"You're so tense I'm surprised you can even sit there," Mickey argued slightly. He worked his thumbs into the back of her neck.

"Hmmm," Martha dropped her had a bit and let Mickey run his hands on her neck and shoulders. "Do I have you on tap now?" Martha asked quietly.

"At your service."

"I really need to get on with this." Martha sounded reluctant. She sighed as Mickey kissed her on the top of the head, why did it have to happen when she was so busy? For all the teasing he endured from Jack and from the Doctor, Mickey was pretty incredible as far as Martha was concerned. She didn't know that much about him really, just the bits that Jack had told her and he didn't know that much. She hoped to find out so much more, but she had to work and it didn't seem that fair on either of them.

"What can I do to help? There must be something?" Mickey asked.

"Um, what about a stock check?" Martha checked. "Do you think you could help with the stock check?"

"I can count?" Mickey shrugged. "What do I need to do?"

"We've got a minimum and maximum stock system. It wouldn't have been kept up to date yesterday when we had so many people coming in one after another and when all the kit was moved into the East Wing. If I show you the store room could you count the stock in there? Then update the database and that will automatically generate the orders?" Martha asked. "I don't want to be too over stocked, but that is not as disastrous as if we were under stocked for anything. We're only small in comparison to most hospital sites so we don't carry much stock so if we were to have another serious incident then we'd be struggling now."

"I am sure I can manage that," Mickey confirmed.

"I'll print the sheets out for you. There are serial and type numbers on the majority of things so you just need to cross reference them to make sure that it is the right item that is being counted."

"Fine, I've done plenty of stock reports before," Mickey advised. "A lot of that was just coded boxes with different car spares in, so it shouldn't be too hard." Martha took him to the main store. It was in a bit of a mess when the day before they'd been grabbing stuff out of it to deal with the stream of injured coming in.

"Looks like I can be doing some tidying too," Mickey commented.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Martha checked.

"Not if it is going to make things easier for you."

"It will make things easier for everyone," Martha confirmed. Mickey reached up to the chain by the bulb in the store room to bring more light on the matters. He saw that there were code numbers on the shelves so he'd have to put things back in the right places, but it didn't look like it would be too hard. For once he didn't mind being relegated to the stock room. He then grinned cheekily and pulled the door too with the intention of giving Martha a cheeky kiss.

"Oh, Mickey?" Martha groaned and sunk back against the shelf.

"What's wrong?"

"We're in a temporary stock room."

"Yeah?"

"And the door does not open from this side," Martha told him

"What?" Mickey tried to push the door. There was no handle on it and it did not move. "What kind of door only opens from one side?"

"A temporary medical store room door," Martha commented. She was so busy and now she was stuck in the cupboard? She didn't know whether she was going to laugh or to cry. Laughing seemed easier somehow.

"I'm sorry," Mickey couldn't help but laugh either.

"I'll ring…"

"Not Jack?!" Mickey exclaimed.

"No, not Jack. I'll ring Gerald. He'll come and let us out." Martha got her phone out and dialled his pager number so he'd ring through to her mobile. She put her phone down. "It may be a couple of minutes depending on what he is doing."

"A couple of minutes?" Mickey asked. "I'm sorry. I'm the one wasting your time now."

"You'll be saving us a few hours by doing this for us," Martha assured Mickey. "I can't believe you got us locked in the cupboard! Way to start the rumours?"

"Well, if the rumours are going to be started anyway?" Mickey leant in to kiss her, but Martha put her hands on his chest and instead kissed him on the cheek. "On duty?" Mickey checked and she nodded.

"I'm sorry," Martha sighed.

"I don't think we're going to get caught."

"It's not about being caught," Martha advised him. "It's about it being separate. Something to look forward to when I go off duty," she commented. "While I'm here I have to be in charge and I have to be professional. I'm on duty, when I'm off duty? I can relax and I can be with you."

"Okay." Mickey hugged her and kissed her in the middle of the forehead. He then picked a spilled pack of sterile dressings up from the floor. They were all wrapped still so he could put them back in the box. He did that and then he found the place where they went. Martha picked something else up and they started to tidy.

"So, when are you going to be off duty?" Mickey asked Martha cheekily after they had been tidying for a while and he'd made sure he was in the perfect position to watch when Martha leant down to pick things up from the floor. She caught him watching and she slapped his shoulder but then laughed. "I want to take you out. When can I take you out?"

"If everyone remains comfortable and stable then maybe for a couple of hours this afternoon after the debrief. It depends on the Doctor more than anyone else really. The other patients can be dealt with by my staff, but I am responsible for the Doctor. When he's eaten properly, had a drink, and is able to support his own body temperature better."

"I will have a chat with him," Mickey teased. "Tell him that he's got to get his act together and start getting better so I can take you out for dinner."

"Where are you going to take me?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"I want you to surprise me," Martha commented.

"Then I'm not going to tell you where I'm going to take you." Mickey smiled at her. Martha looked at him. The way he was looking at her she thought that maybe she wasn't actually technically on duty while locked in a stock cupboard. Except, then her phone started to ring. It was Gerald's number that came up.

"Doctor Jones," Martha answered professional and Mickey tried to stifle a snigger.

"Doctor Jones, you paged me. I'm sorry I was in the surgery giving a wound a clear for Doctor Carter. It took me a while to get out. I called by your office but you weren't there?"

"No, I'm in the main store room," Martha told him. "I was showing Mickey how to do the stock take and the door shut behind us. Can you come and let us out?"

"Yes ma'am," Gerald confirmed.

"You're not laughing are you?" Martha asked him seriously.

"No ma'am."

"You tell a soul and I'll have you on bed pan duties for a month."

"Yes ma'am, I'll be right there." Gerald hurried to let Martha and Mickey out of the cupboard. Despite the threat of bedpan duties he was trying hard not to giggle when he opened the door. He then clicked the latch so it could not accidentally close again.

"I will have to get maintenance to do something about that door," Martha commented.

"I am sorry I got us stuck, Martha. Sorry for wasting your time."

"Like I said, you're saving us time, and actually specifically Gerald time as he was the most likely to get stuck with the stock take," Martha advised. Gerald nodded his agreement. "You owe me a fresh coffee though, that one you brought me will be cold by now," she told Mickey cheekily. "And, you can make it all up to me later."

"Oh, that I will," Mickey confirmed cheekily and then get back on with the stock take.

It took Mickey four hour to do the stock take. He was sure it would have taken other people less time, but he wasn't entirely sure what some of the things he was counting were and he didn't want to make a mistake when it was for things he thought could be critical to the care of Martha's patients so he checked and cross checked all the serial numbers.

It hadn't helped that a lot of things had gotten mixed up and shuffled round in the store cupboard the day before when they'd all been grabbing for the things they needed to treat the multiple casualties of the Harlequin. It also hadn't helped much when people had come into the cupboard while he was counting and took things out so he had to go back and recount. He began to think that Martha was not actually given him the worst job in the world, but then he remembered her threatening Gerald with bed pan duties and he imagined that was much worse.

When he had finished and was ready to put his stock take into the computer in order to generate the orders for Martha he went to find her and to get instruction on how to do it, but he couldn't find her. She wasn't in her office or on any of the wards or down in the East Wing. He called into the Doctor's room and found Jack was sitting with the Time Lord. He doubted the Captain was going to move now until the Time Lord was fully recovered and then the Doctor would run off and on his mended leg and spare no thought to the loving attention given to him by the Captain other than to be embarrassed by needing it in the first place. He felt a surprise pang of sorry for the Captain. He was so devoted to the Time Lord and they all knew he'd receive nothing but grief in return. The Doctor simply didn't get it.

"Do you know where Martha is?" Mickey asked Jack.

"She's gone to do the main debrief with Major Proctor and some other UNIT guys. Then Proctor has only gone and called a public briefing already. He's having a full brief with people not linked to UNIT like the members of families of people hurt and killed. I don't think it's right to do it so soon and I don't think Martha does either, but she has no choice but to go to that now it's been called."

"Oh, okay."

"She said she'd left you in a cupboard," the Doctor croaked. His eyes were closed and his contribution to the conversation surprised Mickey who had not realised he was awake.

"Yeah, I was doing a stock take. I just finished but need to put it on the computer. How you feeling now, Boss? You look like Hell."

"A bit better, maybe."

"Well, that is good," Mickey offered. "Have you had anything to eat or drink yet?" Mickey checked remembering what Martha had said about the grounds for him being able to take her out.

"No, not yet." The Doctor puffed his cheeks out a bit in a universal indication of nausea. If he ate he was going to be sick and he really didn't think he could cope with being sick again. It had got past the point of it just being a disgusting discomfort, now it racked him and hurt him.

"He's got a bit of a migraine or something, so we were just sitting quietly," Jack commented. "Or, he was lying there quietly and I was reading him some of the New Tales of Camelot." Jack indicated to the book in his lap.

"Do you need an ice pack, Boss?"

"We tried, but it made it worse," Jack answered for him.

"Where did you put it?"

"On his forehead."

"Ah, see, that is not the best place," Mickey advised. "I will go and find one and see if it works." He hurried out the room and went to find some ice packs. He was worried about the Doctor. If he was feeling so unwell he was just lying there with his eyes closed as Jack read to him then he had to be feeling pretty dire. He hadn't realised just what kind of impact it would have to see the Time Lord so stricken. It made his guts tumble each time he walked into that room, but more than that, he knew Martha wasn't going to leave him while he was so unwell and he was gutted about that as well as about the Doctor.

There were gel ice packs in the stock cupboard. He went and got three of them and then crossed them off his stock take before taking them back into the Doctor's room.

"Alright, Boss, I reckon this will help." Mickey activated one of the ice packs. "Lift your head up for a moment?" Mickey suggested. The Doctor strained to lift his head from the pillow but even that movement made his entire being swim. His stomach felt dizzy. How could dizziness stretch right the way down into his abdomen? He groaned and sagged back down.

"Sorry…"

"Hey, it's okay," Mickey assured him. He carefully slid the ice pack under the Doctor's neck and positioned it just at the base of his skull. "How is that?" Mickey asked him.

"Cold… I'm not sure."

"You can tell us to take it out if it's not comfortable, Sweetheart," Jack assured him. Mickey expected the Doctor to balk at Jack and tell him off for calling him that, but he didn't. A soft groan languished on his lips but then he just seemed to melt further into the bed. "Doc?" Jack caressed his cheek, but got no response. "Doctor?"

"Has he just passed out?"

"Um?" Jack rubbed the Doctor's shoulder. "I think he has." He looked over at the monitors. His vitals had not changed at all so he didn't worry too much that there was anything suddenly wrong. He was just weak and pretty unwell. Jack sighed as he caressed the Doctor's head. It was all because he had got cocky and brought him the drugs back too early. Jack leant forward onto the bed and stroked the Doctor's lank hair out of his face. The Doctor turned into him very slightly as he was sleeping rather than totally out of it. "You'll be okay, Sweetheart," Jack assured him. "You'll be okay soon enough."

"He will be, won't he?" Mickey worried. It had been bad enough when he had been screaming in agony with his leg. Now other things had taken over the injury which was an indication of just how bad it was. For him to complain of a headache rather than his leg being in bits? It had to be a seriously painful headache.

"Yeah, he will be," Jack stated with a confidence that sounded more like a threat than an assurance.

"Not by tonight though, huh?"

"By tonight?"

"Martha is not going to leave the hospital while he remains this sick."

"Not a chance," Jack agreed. "I don't think he is going to deteriorate or anything, he is just unwell, but she's not going to go anywhere. She does need to rest properly though. She's knackered. If you can do anything to get her to rest then you have to."

"I wanted to take her out for a couple of hours so she could relax and we could have some dinner."

"I don't think she'll leave."

"I'm not even going to ask her," Mickey offered. "She needs to be here for him."

"All that means is that you're going to have to bring dinner to her," Jack prompted.

Mickey thought for a moment and then nodded. "I can do that."

"And, don't you dare think that just means ordering a couple of pizzas," Jack warned and then laughed.

"What is wrong with pizza?"

"I suppose it is better than crisps in a sick bowl," Jack offered, though he had to admit that had been pretty sweet until the Doctor had actually thrown up on top of them. Jack and Mickey talked for a while until James came into the room. He was on his crutches and still not putting any weight onto his leg.

"How is he doing?" James asked Jack as he nodded toward the Doctor. He looked at the monitors and tried to decipher what they were saying in terms of him being an alien rather than them saying that he was a human in real trouble.

"He's got quite a severe headache," Jack commented. "We thought he had passed out, but he seems to have settled to sleep now," Jack explained and then James looked at his watch.

"I'm afraid I can't really put off the examination of his leg any longer," James commented. "I've got Barb coming in. She will be about ten minutes and we do need to split the cast. It needs to be done and it certainly needs to be done today and time is pushing on. Do you want to wake him up, Jack?"

"Not particularly."

"It wasn't really a question of whether we wake him or not, but as to whether you do it or I do it. I believe it will be better for him emotionally if you wake him rather than if I do."

"You're really going to wake him up and start messing with his leg while he's still so sick?" Mickey questioned him.

"We don't have a choice. His leg still needs to be looked after, and, I can't leave it any longer."

"But there is no indication of him having any issues with his circulation, so, how come you can't do it later?" Jack checked with the orthopaedic surgeon.

"Because, I am going into surgery."

"Then do it afterward."

"No, you misunderstand, I am going into surgery. I have left it as late as I can, but I do have an issue with circulation and there seems to be some complications with my knee. I am going to have that sorted today which means I will not be available until tomorrow or the day after. The cast on his leg needs to be split before I go in. I am sure Martha could do it without my input but I don't want to put additional pressure on her."

"You're having surgery on your knee?" Jack realised what he was saying.

"I'm having the alignment checked and some ligaments reattached. It won't take long and I will be back in a couple of days, but I can't leave it much longer or the surgery will be harder and take longer and end up being a full open procedure which could rule me out as long as a fortnight and under the circumstances I cannot afford that. This is the best option for both of us, for Martha, and for some other patients that have picked up serious orthopaedic injuries."

"I will wake him," Jack agreed. He stood up and caressed the Doctor's head. "Doc, I'm sorry, you need to wake up. The doctor is here and he needs to look at your leg."

"I am… the Doctor," the Doctor advised sleepily. He sounded like he was slurring a bit and as if he had been drinking.

"Yeah, we know you're the doctor, but James is here and he needs to look at your leg so you need to be awake. Wake yourself up, Doc, okay? I know you're not feeling well, but it needs to be done and we can't do it while you're asleep."

"Why not?"

"Because it will wake you up and it won't be fair to wake you that way," Jack advised.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"It will be done in a way to minimise the pain, but I can't guarantee that it being pain free," James told the Doctor. "I need you to open your eyes and wake up."

"It's too bright for him," Mickey advised.

"My head hurts," the Doctor complained in confirmation.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I do need to proceed. If you are awake then what I'm going to do is clean the pins and ensure there is no scab formation around them. Then I am going to split the cast and check the position of your ankle in the cast and replace the drain in your knee."

"No…"

"I'm not going to do anything too difficult. All you need to do is relax," James advised.

"Do you want me to read some more of your book?" Jack asked him.

"Don't want to… miss any of it."

"Okay," Jack commented. "Then what do you think about the most recent developments?" Jack asked the Doctor.

"It's dead."

"Not with the Harlequin, that is all over."

"Shouldn't be… too easy," the Doctor muttered.

"I cannot believe you would use the term easy in relation to the events of yesterday," James announced. "24 people were killed."

"A single ghost could kill 24,000 people and more in a day," the Doctor opened his eyes and squinted at James. "It doesn't make sense. It still doesn't make… oh… ow?" the Doctor weakly raised his hand to his head as he grimaced at the pain in his head.

"Just relax, Sweetheart," Jack caressed his head. "You don't need to think about it. We were lucky. We just need to deal with the aftermath now and get you better. You can work it all out when you're feeling better, it will give you something to do. Right now I'm just glad you're safe and the ghost has been contained and it is dead. When you're feeling better you can go through every little detail. All the reports and statements and injuries and we can figure out why it doesn't make sense to you, okay? I'll help," Jack assured. "Mickey will help and I am sure the Colonel will as well."

"Okay."

"In order to achieve that we need to make sure your leg heals as well as possible and that means I need to clean the pins. Jack, you can watch this as you will be able to do it for him as well. It needs to be done at least three times a day while the pins remain in," James advised. "It may sting a little but it won't hurt." James assured him.

"I will watch next time," Jack suggested. "When he's not feeling so sick." Jack took the Doctor's hand. "So, what about the other news that we have, Doc? What do you think about that?" Jack was desperate to distract the Time Lord.

"What news?" the Doctor asked. Jack felt him squeeze his hand as James used an antiseptic soaked gauze on a pin as it went into his leg. He gently cleaned the metal and eased away any scab adhering to it. He eased some of the skin down to sterilise the pin below the surface of his skin. They had to be very careful and keep them meticulously clean as the pins could carry infection right down into the bone. It was uncomfortable for the Doctor, but he wouldn't say it was horrendously painful. It didn't set the cowboys off, it was just like someone cleaning a cut or something and did not bother the breaks.

"I am talking about the news that our pal Mickey here actually found the guts to ask our Doctor Jones out," Jack advised. "And, all psychiatric evaluations pending, Doctor Martha Jones actually said yes," Jack advised the Doctor. "So, what do you think about…"

"Aarrgh?!" the Doctor arched and cried out on the bed.

"Sorry," James apologised and dropped the gauze down on the cleansing tray again as he braced himself on the edge of the bed for a moment.

"Are you okay, James?" Mickey asked him when he saw him wobble and catch himself while cleaning the pin in the Doctor's leg.

"yes, I just, I think I will wait until Barb arrives and she can continue."

"You're okay, Doc," Jack held the Doctor as he groaned with the pain that had been sparked. "Just relax."

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…" the Doctor whimpered.

"Shhh, I know it hurts," Jack held both of his hands. "Just relax."

"I'm so sorry, Doctor. I did not mean to hurt you like that." James knew he'd lost his balance slightly and had accidentally leant into the pin. He'd certainly not put any weight on the Doctor's leg but he knew that he'd strained the pin enough to hurt him. It was why he should not be treating patients, but he had no choice under the circumstances. It had to be done. "I'm sorry."

Barb came into the room. The Doctor was still reeling and groaning with the awakened pain in his leg. "Can you take over the cleansing of the pins please?" James gave her the tray of antiseptic and soaked gauzes. "We just need to get on and do it. I'm afraid I hurt him with the last one," James admitted. Barb cleaned the rest of the pins making sure they were clean and tweezering a bit of scab away from one of them.

"I'm going to need you to split the cast for him now, Barb," James advised. He got a marker out of his pocket. Barb looked at him and he nodded and she took it. She didn't say it out loud because she did not want to worry the Doctor or his friends but she had not actually done it herself only had assisted a doctor in doing it. "Draw a line down the cast from the top of it to the toe. You need to draw it about 15 degrees off the straight. Then draw another line down the other side so we will be removing the top quarter of the cast."

"Okay." Barb drew the lines.

"Take it slightly lower around the outside of his knee," James instructed.

"How is that?" Barb asked.

"It looks good, now just cut the cast along those lines as if you were doing a standard removal which you've done tonnes of times," James advised. Barb got the handheld circular plaster saw.

"Okay, Doctor?" Barb was relieved he seemed to have calmed down a bit. "I'm going to remove a section of the cast like the last time so we know it's not going to get too tight, okay?"

"Okay." The Doctor had no choice but to agree. He couldn't contemplate running away. He didn't have the energy to argue. His head was swimming and banging with the effect of his own yelling. Yelling also hurt his chest and his rib. It wasn't fair, was it?

Barb cut down the cast on either side following the lines she had drawn. The buzzing of the saw made the Doctor feel even more nauseous. He didn't know why, it was anticipation of what was going to come. Barb used a pair of scissors to crack open one side of the cast and then the other. As the top of the cast gave the Doctor screamed in pure agony.

"Whoa, easy, Doctor?" Barb was surprised by the amount of pain he was in, but the Doctor gagged and sobbed before simply passing out. He was physically unable to cope with any more. "Why did that hurt him so much?" Barb asked looking at James.

"I think it is evidence that despite there being no outward signs that the cast had started to become too tight. Most likely at his knee or his ankle, or both, and the removal of the cast front caused a change in pressure. Don't forget the fractures in his ankle remain completely unstable. I did put a wire into his knee to hold that more secure due to the pain he had been experiencing, but it did not include the patella. You need to cut through the padding now, but be careful over the gel pad covering the surgical wound. Do not cut that, we want to leave that intact," James instructed.

"Okay, let's see what he looks like under all this cotton wool," Barb suggested. She cut through the padding bandage so that it could be folded back to protect him from the edge of the cast.

"That's disgusting," Mickey commented.

"I think we can safely say it was too tight at his knee and his ankle. If we'd left that any longer he would have started to feel a great deal of pain there," James advised. His knee looked like it had been squared off by the inside of the cast but it was rapidly rising into a dome of fluid. The skin was tight and shiny where it was stretched and it was black and dark grey with gruesome bruising. His ankle was visibly out of line in the cast. There was a step in the front of his ankle. They knew they had lost the alignment in their rush to get the cast on when his hearts had been stopping. The scans had suggested there was no real issue leaving it like that, but the cast had caused a strange diversion of swelling so he had a visible lump of fluid in the front of his broke foot and his ankle was deformed.

"Okay," James hopped down the bed. He braced himself against it and felt the front of the Doctor's ankle. He pushed down on the edge of the fractured bone that had popped up, but it was not going to go down. It was too swollen. "Barb, I want ice packs on here. I also want padding and then a bandage over the top in order to provide some compression and we need to get his leg elevated further. I want his foot higher than his hearts even if he moves to sitting slightly."

"We can't fix a pulley to this bed."

"Then, let's get him onto a bed where we can. If that means we swap with someone not using an over bed frame then we do that. It is clear the pillows are not enough. He's gathering a lot of fluid in that leg."

"His kidneys haven't been working very well," Mickey commented. "Couldn't that cause an issue?"

"Maybe," James agreed and nodded. Jack just looked at Mickey surprised.

"What?" Mickey asked him. "My Gran, in the other universe. She had renal failure towards the end and her legs really swelled up a lot."

James pulled the sheet back and looked at the Doctor's uninjured leg.

"It does look a bit swollen," Jack commented.

"You're serious?" James asked.

"Yeah."

"His leg is skinnier than my wrist and you think it's swollen?" Barb teased.

"It is, round his ankle. You'd normally have all kinds of bony lumps sticking out. I don't think it's bad or anything, but he's lying down. If he was sitting up it would be worse wouldn't it?"

"Possibly," James pressed his fingers into the front of the Doctor's left leg just above his ankle. He counted to ten and then released. There remained a dent in his leg. "He does have a slight oedema. It's as likely caused by heart failure as kidney failure, but it is not extreme. The injury will make it more significant to his right leg than the left. It is a good spot though," he acknowledged Mickey. He had a look at the bed frame. "Okay, he stays on this bed," James decided. He and Barb tilted the whole of the bed so that his head was six inches below his feet, but then they raised the head of the bed so he was not going to feel like he was upside down, but so his head was raised.

"What about elevating his injured leg?" Barb asked.

"There are clamp holes in the side of the bed frame. If the standard frame does not fit then we get one sorted. Get one of the engineers over to see what they can do bearing in mind it needs to be sturdy enough to take the weight of his leg and it needs to be height adjustable," James advised.

"Okay," Barb nodded.

"Let's just reset the drain in his knee," James commented. The initial tube remained in situ but had been stoppered in the cast. James took the cap off and then opened it up and put a new drain tube down into his knee. "Barb, can you do a manual suction on here and give it a head start. We may as well do that for him as he is unconscious."

"I've got all I need to do, James," Barb told him. "Why don't you go and get yourself ready."

"Yeah," James acknowledged.

"Thank you for helping with the Doctor first," Jack acknowledged. "Good luck."


	53. Chapter 53

James went out of the room to go and get ready for his own surgery. Barb went to the store and got bandages, a pad, and ice packs. Mickey scrubbed it off his stock take realising that it was never going to be entirely up to date at all. Barb put the ice packs along the entire length of the Doctor's cast. At his foot and ankle she then put pads over the top to bring them up higher than the level of the cast and then put a bandage around it all so that some pressure was applied to his ankle and foot to squeeze the fluid.

She got a large syringe and connected it to the tube on his knee. She carefully drew fluid out and the Doctor moaned as he started to come back round. "This is a bad time for you to be waking up, love," Barb told him, but it didn't seem to work. By the time she'd filled the syringe with blood streaked fluid the Doctor was crying out with the pain the adjustment of pressure within his knee caused. "It will feel so much easier once it is done," Barb assured him. She didn't let his cry stop her as she drew the fluid and then attached the vacuum pack to the drain so it would continue to actively draw the fluid that was collecting in his knee joint.

"That is it, Doctor, you're done. I just need to get someone to come over and see how we sort your bed sling out," Barb advised. She went out of the room. She was gone ten minutes before she returned. "An engineer is going to come over and have a look at the bed frame and take some measurements so we can fix a frame over the bed," Barb advised.

"Thank you," Jack accepted on the Doctor's behalf as the Time Lord moaned. "It's all done, Doctor, you just relax." He caressed the Time Lord's head just wondering how much more the Time Lord was going to have to take, how much more he could take.

Twenty minutes later a young coloured man in a navy boiler suit arrived. He looked at the number of the door frame and then he knocked. "I was told to come and measure a bed to make a frame?" he commented as he came in.

"Yeah, it is in here," Jack invited him. "You're an engineer?" He looked pretty young.

"An apprentice mechanical engineer and a cadet private," the guy responded. "I'm good at fixing and building stuff. So, what do you need to?"

"They need to elevate his leg up so his foot is about two foot above the bed and the standard frames don't fit the bed," Jack explained. He felt a bit annoyed that they'd sent an apprentice over and not an expert. He did not want to think of what it would do to the Doctor if a badly made frame failed.

"Oh my God?" the private stopped in his tracks and looked at the occupant in the bed. "That's… I mean that is… it is… isn't it? That's the Doctor? What happened? What is he doing here?!"

"Yeah, it's the Doctor, but he's pretty sick and he needs you to sort out the bed frame for his leg not stand there and gawp at him. I know all you kids have read his case files but he just needs help at the moment."

"No, you don't understand. I know him."

"You do?" Jack shrugged. "What's your name?"

"Yeah, I'm Barclay."

"Barclay?" Jack commented. "Never heard of you. So, how do you know him then?"

"Off the 200," Barclay advised. "He got me a job here at UNIT. He told Captain Mugumbo to give me a job and she got me an apprenticeship. Nathan too. He's gone into the catering corps! And, the Doctor? I mean? He saved us all, what happened to him?" Barclay asked looking at the man who had been so full of life and had flown heir ill fated bus back through a wormhole. "Did that alien get him?"

"No, tell you what, Barclay?" Jack checked his name with his tone. "I'm sure that by the time you've sorted out his bed frame he will be more awake again," Jack prompted.

"Yeah, sure, I just. He was always running. It's strange to see him still."

"You really did meet him," Mickey chuckled.

"Wait until Nathan hears that he is here, and Malcolm. He does some of our lectures, he is proper bonkers but he'll flip out when he hears the Doctor is here for real."

"Barclay, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell everyone that he is here, certainly not just now," Jack suggested seriously. "He really needs to rest. He needs to recover and he needs more surgery. Maybe once he is feeling better, but for now? He needs to be allowed to recuperate and Doctor Jones will be the one who flips out if she finds out that he's had people in and out of here all day. Doctor Jones will let you all know when he can start having visitors, but for now he needs to be looked after rather than entertained."

"Okay," Barclay accepted. He got his tape measure and a tablet out and did some measurements of the bed. He was doing that when the Doctor groaned. It caused Barclay to freeze.

"It's okay, carry on, you're not hurting him," Jack assured him

"Jack?" the Doctor breathed.

"It's okay, I'm here."

"Are they… finished?"

"For now." Jack didn't tell him they still had to hoist his leg up. "It was getting too tight at your knee and ankle, but it should feel better now."

"So cold…" the Doctor complained weakly. He had thought he'd been warming up but now he was freezing again. Jack realised he had ice the length of his leg. He was being chilled from toe to hip with a long line of ice packs. For a man unable to control his body temperature because of illness it might not have been as good an idea as it might have been. He tucked the blanket around him.

"Hey, Boss, do you remember someone called Barclay on a bus?" Mickey asked him trying to distract him and because Barclay looked like every single one of his illusions of the magical man had just been shattered in one go.

"Barclay?" the Doctor asked and winced. Jack hoped he remembered the kid. "Yeah… Barclay… good with engines," the Doctor confirmed with a tired sigh. "He might be working here. I told Captain Mugumbo… he would be good. But… why? Why mention… Barclay? On no? Is he? Is he… one of them?" the Doctor gasped. "Is he one… of the dead?!" He panicked and then cried out.

"Damn, take it easy." Jack held the Doctor. "He's not one of the dead. He's here," Jack assured him. "Calm down and say hello. He's an engineering apprentice and he's here to fix your bed."

"Doctor, Sir?" Barclay acknowledged him formally.

"You're here," the Doctor groaned quietly.

"Yes Sir."

"Don't call me… Sir," the Doctor complained. Jack smiled and rubbed the Doctor's shoulder.

"Did you do it?" the Doctor asked.

"Do what, Doctor?"

"Ask her?" the Doctor prompted. "Tina, that was her… name wasn't it? Poor… Tina. Did you ask her?"

"Yeah, I did." Barclay smiled stunned that the Doctor would remember that.

"And? Did she say… yes?"

"Yeah, she did."

"Poor Tina." The Doctor smiled weakly.

"Oi." Barclay laughed. "We're engaged."

"Congratulations," the Doctor offered, but then he winced and moaned unable to maintain the conversation.

"I'll sort your bed out as best I can."

"My bed…"

"Yeah, I will sort it for you."

"Thank you," the Doctor accepted, but he didn't know what Barclay was talking about his bed for. Barclay tapped the screen on his tablet to input the final measurements and then hurried out.

"You okay, Doc?" Jack caressed his head, but the Doctor's expression screwed in pain. "Okay." Jack sighed. "Try and go back to sleep."

"Going to be…" the Doctor tensed.

"Ah, Mickey, grab the bowl!" Jack pointed to the sick bowl on the side as the Doctor gagged. Jack held him up enough that he could throw up but he cried out in pain at the same time almost choking. He gagged and dry heaved but was lucky there was nothing inside him to vomit up or he may have inhaled it and ended up in trouble. He coughed and then simply went limp in Jack's arms as he lost consciousness. Jack pressed a kiss to the top of the Doctor's head as he held him and then lowered him back onto the bed. Mickey put his hand on Jack's shoulder when he saw the empathic tears in the Captain's eyes as he accepted one simple fact: he definitely wasn't going to be going out with Martha. 

When Barclay returned to the Doctor's room he had with him several bits of metal and his tool kit. Martha had a thirty minute gap between briefings. She really didn't think having a briefing including people affiliated with UNIT but who were civilians such as relatives was a good idea. It was too early. They didn't have enough answers yet. Major Proctor insisted that it had been arranged and that she was to be there. She was going to have to go, not because he insisted, but because he had set the meeting up and if she wasn't there to answer questions that she could then even more would be unanswered. It still felt like there were more questions than answers and Martha didn't know what it would achieve except to draw her away from her patients and work for even longer.

Now she was just popping in to see how the Doctor was doing and found Barclay in the room. She knew he had been on the bus with the Doctor as he had sought her out. Another soul touched by the Time Lord. "Barclay? What are you doing?" Martha asked curiously as he put his tool kit down and laid different length bits of metal out on the floor. Surely they weren't doing some kind of maintenance in the room where the Doctor was?

"James asked someone to come and fix a frame over the bed as he wants his leg elevated significantly more," Jack advised. "Did James not come and see you?"

"No, I've just come out the meeting and James is in surgery at the moment," Martha advised.

"He said his knee is pretty bad?"

"Yeah, it is worse than we thought. There were more scans done this morning as he can hardly stand up. He needs some quite urgent repairs."

"He didn't seem that comfortable," Jack agreed.

"He came in and saw to the Doctor then?" Martha asked. She picked up the electronic chart up off the bed knowing that James would have ensured it was updated.

"He split the cast and cleaned the pins."

"Okay," Martha acknowledged as she read the same on the record.

"He put ice packs right along his leg, but the Doctor is still complaining of feeling cold. Isn't that going to make it harder for him to get warm? He was sick again and he's passed out twice. Once when they were sorting out his cast and then just now when he was heaving. I'm not sure he's improving the way we expected him to once the treatment to his kidney was completed," Jack worried.

"It's still less than 24 hours since he was in complete respiratory and cardiac failure, Jack. That he's been awake and talking is pretty much all we could have expected. He's doing okay, he's just not well."

"Is there nothing else you can give him? I thought he was just going to give in and start crying before. If he hadn't passed out I think he would have. He was trying to have a conversation with Barclay, here, and he could hardly get a sentence out."

"Unfortunately, that is why he shouldn't really behaving visitors, but should just be allowed to rest peacefully and not have to try to have conversations," Martha commented and glanced at Barclay.

"I didn't know he was here. I just came to do the job I was given."

"To build a frame for this bed?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Why don't we just swap him into a bed with an existing frame?"

"James was worried he might have some general oedema and has raised the end of the bed," Jack explained. Martha opened the Doctor's file again and read all of the notes that James had made. He had said there was some fluid. Martha pulled the blanket back to reveal the Doctor's uninjured left ankle and foot. Maybe it was a touch on the swollen side but not much. She didn't want it to get any worse. Raising the bed was a good idea, but if he was going to be retaining fluid then they might have to look at getting a compression stocking on him. She was sure that he'd appreciate that! She wasn't going to reduce the flow of fluids into him and risk dehydration with him being so sick and his kidney stones.

"Has he been complaining of anymore renal pain?" Martha asked Jack.

"No, not really, he's mostly been bothered by his leg and he's got a really bad headache."

"Okay, when Barclay is finished I'm going to examine him."

"Do you want me to step out so you can do what you need to do?" Barclay asked.

"No, you carry on. How long do you think you will be?"

"Five minutes or so. I might need an extra pair of hands to put it all together, but it's going to be better than the frames on the other beds," Barclay announced proudly.

"I am going to hold you to that," Jack insisted. "It better be strong enough. It's got to hold the weight of his leg and the cast."

"It will be. We use these struts to build frames to hold tanks up for repair," Barclay explained. He got a bolt and socket set and went over to the bed. He had four short struts and he bolted them to the bed making sure the flat heads were inside the bed frame and they were capped on the outside. He didn't want anyone to lean on the bed and get a bolt in their middle, but he wanted the Doctor to get bolted even less. Even if it was highly unlikely since the bolts were below the level of the mattress. Once the four short struts were fitted he got four longer ones and bolted them to the short ones. He used butterfly nuts on the bolts rather than fixed ones. He had to stand on a chair to put the top struts over. He fastened them with solid bolts and then put some guard wires through so they were locked in place.

"What do you use to hold his leg up? I've got straps and stuff but I don't know if you need anything different?" he asked Martha.

"Since he's cast the straps will be fine. We'd use a padded sling otherwise, but straps may be better with the metalwork. You need to make sure that there are no straps anywhere near the pins or the connecting struts holding his leg," Martha advised Barclay. "And, you can't squash the drain from his knee. Anywhere there is solid cast will be fine for the strap, the plaster will bear the weight of his leg."

Barclay put two cross rails over the top of the bed and then fitted spring loaded cross braces between them. He carefully angled the whole thing so it was in the right position to hold the Doctor's leg off the bed. Then he fitted some more cross braces and tied them off and then locked them. The structure was strong and solid. It looked like it was right over the metal frame in the Doctor's leg, but when it was raised the angle would put the frame more over his ankle. He got some black canvas straps out of a plastic bag. They were new ones. He didn't want to sue ones with oil or anything on them for the Doctor.

"Can you lift his leg into the position you want it and I will be the straps?" Barclay asked. He would normally just attach the straps then hoist anything up with pulleys, but he'd normally by jacking up tanks or other large bits of machinery. The modular frames were good for getting into tight spots.

Jack took the weight of the Doctor's cast leg and raised it up under Martha's instruction. A low moan drifted up over the bed like a veil of discontented fog as it hurt the Doctor within the depth of his slumber.

"Is that the angle you want it?"

"Yes."

"Then can you take it a few inches higher for a moment?" Barclay asked. He fastened the straps around the lower part of the cast. There was a padded aspects to the toughened fabric so it didn't mark the paint jobs on any of the vehicles they were normally used on. He put the pads to the back of the cast. Then he put a collar around the two strap ends to hold them close to the cast and then hooked them into the framework.

"Let the frame take the weight now," Barclay instructed. Jack carefully reduced his hold. He was ready to take back control if the frame as much as creaked but it did not. His leg was elevated well and the frame was structurally sound. "Is there any way we can reduce the risk of his leg swinging?" Martha asked.

"Do you want it to be able to swing at all?"

"Not really."

"Okay." Barclay got two spring loaded clamps out. He attached them to the frame work and then he hooked them onto the clasps on the strap. They pulled the strap from both sides so it would not accidentally move. "You'd have to swing on him now to get it to move at all," Barclay advised and demonstrated that his leg would not move easily.

"If we need to quickly release his leg for any reason?" Martha asked not sure if anyone had remembered to tell Barclay that they might had to do that. If there was another problem with the Doctor's hearts or anything then they would have to get him flat with no time to spare. They'd not have the time to call maintenance over or to be playing around with spanners.

"It'd just drop his leg unless you were holding it," Barclay warned. "But we just use fish knives if we have to quick release a vehicle."

"A fish knife?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, I will leave you mine in case," Barclay advised. "It's not really very sophisticated, but if you do need to get his leg down in an emergency then you just cut the straps." He got a tool that looked a bit like a fish out. It was a safety knife and the fabric of the strap was pushed into the mouth of the fish that held a sharp blade.

"It's like a seat belt cutter," Martha commented.

"Probably, yes," Barclay confirmed. It would work on the same principle. "If you have more time and you want to adjust his leg then you can undo the neck on the spring cramps, here and here. You just turn them a quarter turn to the right and they release. Best to do them both at the same time if you can. Then to reduce the strap you pull this fabric collar right down and there is just Velcro so you can make it go up or down or take it right off. It shouldn't come apart with his leg because it's used to hold vehicles up to four tonnes, but if you always remember just to slide the collar down that prevents the Velcro coming apart," Barclay gave a thorough explanation. "If you need it to be adjusted in any other way then just let me know and I will come over. It doesn't matter what time it is, and with everything that happened yesterday we're all on study leave for the next week so if you need anything else then let me know. If he just needs someone to sit with him or anything. If you have to go anywhere, then I'll do that and I know not to talk to him too much. If you don't need me to sit with him you can let me know when he is fit enough for visitors, I mean if he wants visitors? If he's feeling like rubbish he might not even want visitors, but he doesn't seem to be the kind of guy who will be happy in bed once he's feeling better, and, it is just his leg isn't it? I take it that it is broken, but he will be okay won't he? I mean not today, but in a while?"

"Breathe." Jack chuckled and shook his head slightly at the affect the Doctor obviously had on just about everyone he met.

"Sorry."

"When he's feeling better we will ask him if he's up for a chat and we will let you know, but please, until he is feeling better he's not to be disturbed. He was quarantined in the East Wing until the incident yesterday so that he'd not be inundated with visitors because he needs the chance to rests and to recuperate, even more so now. I don't want you telling everyone in your barracks that he is here," Martha warned him.

"I won't. Thank you. Will you tell him I hope he feels better soon?"

"I'll tell him," Jack confirmed. Barclay left the room again. It didn't seem real that the Doctor could be hurt so badly. They had listened to the telephone call to UNIT. They all talked to him like he was some kind of God or hero. He'd thought it was madness until the man had beaten all the odds and made the bus fly them home. He wouldn't tell anyone he was here, it was plain to see just how sick he was. They'd said something about respiratory and cardiac failure. Didn't that mean he'd stopped breathing and his hearts had stopped? He'd done his basic first aid now, he still had the advanced course to do, but he knew it was bad.

"Hey, Clay? What are you doing in here?" Ethan Coates asked as he was coming into the hospital wing and he saw Barclay going back out with his tools. "Something broken?" he asked the obvious.

"Nah, I just fitted a bed frame for some guy with a busted leg," Barclay advised casually.

"What guy?" Ethan asked.

"Just some guy."

"What? Like some guy who is not a UNIT buy because if it was just a UNIT guy you'd have told me who it was, but a guy with a busted leg who is not a UNIT guy but a guy that you have met before? Is it that guy?" Ethan asked. Barclay frowned at him and Ethan laughed. "I know he's here and I know we're not allowed to talk about it, but how is he? Is he better than yesterday?"

"I'm not sure how he was yesterday am I, Dumbass," Barclay accused and swatted at Ethan. "How do you know he was in there?"

"I've been working with him since I met him on Friday, before that stuff with the Harlequin. I've been helping out, until he had that reaction to the anaesthetic anyway. Since then he's been too sick, but I helped him with the Harlequin and stuff too. He saved my life! Even with his busted leg, he pulled me out the way when that thing was coming down at me through the ceiling! He's pretty cool isn't he?"

"Yeah," Barclay agreed. "Never thought he could get hurt like that though."

"Is he awake?"

"Not at the moment, and I think Doctor Jones was going to do some stuff to him. She was waiting until I left."

"I'll go and see him later then. I've got an assignment to do for Colonel Mace."

"Do you need any help with it?"

"Not at the moment."

"I might go to the brief then. I've not got much else to do now. Everything has been cancelled."

"Why don't you ask Proctor for something to do?"

"What, like polish his boots?" Barclay scoffed and shook his head. "No ta. I can't believe Mace got hurt and we're stuck with him!"

"I know, it is pretty shitty. It was definitely better when Starkey was doing it. Even if it was Jack in the background."

"That is Jack from Torchwood in with the Doctor isn't it?" Barclay confirmed.

"Yeah."

"He's lucky to have him there," Barclay offered. Ethan nodded. Ethan went through to the Doctor's room, but he saw the door had been closed. He knocked and Mickey went to answer it.

"Can I come in?"

"Nah, I've got to leave too," Mickey advised. "Martha is going to do some examinations on him so it's just her, Anita, and Jack in there."

"So, Jack gets to stay?" Ethan asked.

"Jack is the best thing the Doctor has at the moment. He's not left his side and even if Martha told him to I'm not sure he would," Mickey commented. "Come on, you can give me a hand with something while we wait," Mickey advised and led Ethan away. 


	54. Chapter 54

In the room Martha needed to check the Doctor out. She wasn't happy with the way he was recovering. Once his blood had been cleaned she'd have expected him to heal and recover quickly, but he was still sick enough to warrant remaining in the intensive care area rather than moving down to be in the East Wing with the Colonel. She thought about bringing Colonel Mace up out of the East Wing so he wasn't so isolated, but the whole point was to keep him in an area where there was less foot traffic and with eleven other patients remaining in the hospital including 3 with their relatives on site. It was quite busy.

"Do you need me to wake him up?" Jack asked Martha once Mickey had left.

"Not yet. I will do what I can without disturbing him," Martha offered. She eased the blankets off him. The bruises on his chest had come out more fully. They were dark circular spots where she'd injected him into his hearts. They probably weren't as painful now they had come out properly, but they had made a mess over his sternum. "I think we can get him a T-shirt back on now," Martha commented. "We can give him a wash down and get him a T-shirt on and he may feel more comfortable then."

"Do you want me to speak to the quartermaster and get some thermals if he's still feeling cold? A thermal under shirt may be warmer for him?" Anita checked with Martha.

"Yes, that's a good idea," Martha agreed. "Can you do a quick test for glucose and proteins on this?" Martha drained some of his catheter into a testing pot. "We will do a stick test and then get a sample over to the lab." Martha drained the rest of the catheter bag and got rid of it. Anita took the test pot and she put a couple of test sticks into it and then left it on the side for a minute while she wrote the label out. "We will get another full blood work up done as well," Martha suggested. She untucked his arm and then used the canola to draw some blood. The Doctor didn't stir at all. Martha filled three phials with blood so there was enough for the lab to work with. They were lucky that they had a reference card for him. It was from the seventies but it was still the Doctor's even if not the same Doctor. The standards should have been the same in order to determine how well he was. It seemed that perhaps the Doctor had not been quite so reticent about giving up his medical information in the past. Martha handed the blood to Anita and she started to get that ready as well.

"Martha?" Anita got her attention as she checked the urine test strips. "He's a small amount of glucose showing in his urine."

"Okay, he shouldn't really have any," Martha commented thoughtfully.

"He's also got high levels of protein."

"We will confirm with the lab tests but that suggests he's still got pretty poor kidney function." Martha checked the catheter was not sticky or showing any signs of infection and she took his body temperature. It still showed at 14.7 degrees which was close to 2 degrees below his normal range. It didn't make much sense to Martha. If he could not maintain a homeostatic body temperature then his body would be equalising with the room temperature. The room temperature was a comfortable 20 to 21 degrees. He'd normally be complaining that it was slightly too warm if he was feeling under the weather. If he couldn't maintain his body temperature then he'd be getting hyperthermic and not hypothermic. His body temperature was kept at a reduced rate and that had to be active rather than passive. He was feeling cold and he his body temperature was low in an environment where atmospheric temperature was higher than his normal body temperature. It had to be some kind of metabolic issue and Martha hoped they were not looking at more systemic issues as the result of the anaesthetic.

Martha checked the wound on his head. Just gently easing his hair to the side while he slept. The wound was healing very well. It was dry and scabbed and she expected she'd be able to take the stitches out though she'd leave them for another day to be safe. His scalp was bruised which showed just how hard he'd hit his head and the bruising on his face was tinged green and yellow around the edges but his eye remained blackened and his cheek was a dark blue. She lightly caressed his cheek. She had done all she could with him remaining asleep, but she really wanted to be able to finish what she was doing before she had to go through to the next briefing. While she was in the briefing she would ask Anita to give him a bath, get him some clothing, change the bedding, and give him a shave and then he might feel more alive. The dark stubble shadowing his face made him look even paler.

"Doctor?" Martha caressed his head and then gently took his shoulders in her hands. "Doctor? It's Martha. I just need you to wake up for me," she insisted.

"Martha?" the Doctor groaned slightly.

"Hello, I'm sorry to wake you, but I just need to see how you're doing and I don't have much time." Martha was genuinely apologetic. She didn't want people disturbing him and she was doing the same thing.

"Not good."

"No, I know, but we're kind of struggling to figure out why," Martha admitted. "The blood cleanser did it's job and there is nothing in your blood stream. We've given you a blood transfusion. You've had two runs of dialysis now. Your blood oxygen is a little depressed but it's not too low, it's not great and healthy, but it's not so low that its causing me concern. Yet, your body temperature is low and we've just tested and found some glucose in your urine, but more worryingly quite high levels of protein. We're getting some blood and urine to the lab to do some more in depth tests," Martha told him. "I know it's not really fair to be asking you, but, can you think of any reason why?"

"I'm not sure."

"Do you still have a headache?"

"Yeah."

"Is it as bad as it was?" Jack asked wondering if he should go and turn the lights down a little.

"It may be a bit better."

"What about the nausea? Has that passed?" Martha asked him. "Do you want to try a cup of tea while you're awake?"

"I don't want to be sick again," the Doctor complained miserably. "It's got to the point where it hurts."

"I'm sorry," Martha caressed his head. "Let me do the tests I need to do and then we will see how you feel about a drink." Martha suggested as she got her stethoscope out. "Take long slow breaths for me?" she prompted as she listened to both sides of his chest. "Do you think that if Jack and Anita give you a hand that you may be able to sit forward for a moment?"

"Maybe?"

"Let's try. If it is too painful then just let us know and we will stop."

"Come on then?" Jack encouraged. He hooked his arm around him being careful not to catch any of the drip lines.

"Slowly, Jack," Martha warned. Anita helped from the other side of the bed and they eased the Doctor up to sit forward. The Time Lord took a long controlled breath as he had his eye closed and his head hung downward. He didn't look comfortable.

"How is that?" Martha asked him. "Can you lift your head up properly?"

"I'm dizzy."

"Alright, it may just be from sitting up. I want you to take a long deep breath and hold it for me," Martha instructed and used the stethoscope on his back. "Is there any pain?"

"Rib hurts… a bit."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I feel bad about that one," Martha commented.

"Not your fault… should have two… matching sides usually," the Doctor commented.

"Well, I'm glad it is only the one in that case."

"Me too."

"Take another deep breath and hold it," Martha instructed as she moved the stethoscope over to the other side of his back. "And again." She moved it further down. "Last time." Martha listened as the Doctor took in a long breath and then held it and then let it out again. It was shaky and uncomfortable but she thought that largely just general discomfort. "Has the dizziness eased at all?"

"A little."

"Good, carry on breathing in through your nose when you can to make use of the oxygen," Martha reminded him as he still had the nasal catheter. He didn't like it much but he didn't complain as the alternative would be another mask. "The good thing is that your chest sounds clear so there is no indication of the wheeze you had last night. You can lie back again now," Martha advised. She watched as Jack and Anita helped him to lie back down. Martha studied his facial expression and saw him grimace with a flash of pain. "Okay, Doctor, what was hurting then?"

"Leg."

"Okay, good, well, not good because your leg is hurting, but it is better than it being anything different," Martha commented. "A friend of yours made the bed frame for you to elevate your leg. Hopefully it will all calm down again. At the moment I'm more concerned about the effects of the anaesthetic mishap than your actual leg injury," Martha told him. "I'm not convinced that your kidneys are working effectively. You have a slight oedema which suggests a fluid retention and the urine you're producing contains glucose and protein. Is that an indicator of kidney damage in Time Lords as well as an indicator in humans?"

"Yes, it should just… repair though," the Doctor commented. "Must have… been more significant… than was realised."

"Are you still having any renal discomfort?"

"Yeah, a bit, on the left."

"There was no evidence of any stones in the urine are just drew off. I'm going to examine you and then if necessary I'll do another ultrasound. There was some slight bleeding after the stone extrication so there is a risk of infection. Just relax and let me know if I hurt you."

"Okay."

Martha began by palpating over the right side of his abdomen from the kidney area down to his navel. She pressed slowly and lightly and then repeated the exam with deep palpations. "Any pain?"

"No, that feels okay, but I don't relish you doing that to the left."

"If it does get too much then you let me know. In fact, do you want me to go straight to ultra sound so if it is too painful we only have to do it once?" Martha suggested and the Doctor nodded sheepishly. "Anita, can you set it up for me. Let me just do a light exam first," Martha suggested. She moved her hands down from where they were so she was pressing over his bladder. The catheter meant his bladder was draining continually. She got a syringe of saline and she pushed it up the catheter tube to fill his bladder then she clamped the tube to stop it running out so the exam and the ultrasound could be done. She pressed over his bladder again. "Any pain there?"

"It just feels strange."

"Okay, what about across here?" Martha moved her hands slightly to the left. There was still a pen drawn cross on his skin. She was still a couple of inches away from it though.

"That is starting to feel painful rather than just uncomfortable," the Doctor advised

"And here?"

"Yeah, that's sore."

"Here?"

"Yes!" the Doctor snatched and grimaced. His grip on Jack's hand tightened.

"Sorry," Martha rubbed her fingers over the area lightly to soothe him. She wasn't going to do the deep examination, but Anita brought the portable ultrasound over. Martha squeezed the gel onto his skin and got the probe. "I'm going to need to press down quite hard to get a good image so I'm sorry."

"I've got you." Jack put an arm behind the Doctor and held him. Anita put her hands on the Doctor's left thigh so he could not bring his leg up. Martha scanned his full bladder. There was some small bits of grit still in there but they'd probably flow out with the fluid she'd pushed in. She followed the line of his ureter with the sonic probe. They couldn't really get him on his side but she followed him round. He cried out when she pressed down over the stent she'd put in but there were no trapped stones. She wondered if that was causing him some irritation and if she should risk going in and removing it again. It would be much easier to do when he was actually out though. She wanted to leave it there until they operated on his leg again and just take a quick detour to retrieve it. She'd have to monitor him and see how he did. She angled the probe into his flank, going slightly behind him to find his kidney with the probe. She pressed down on his flank from above and pushed the sonic probe in at the side. The Doctor hollered.

"I'm sorry. I need you to keep still or I can't get a good image," Martha insisted. Anita and Jack had to hold him as he cried out. Martha took a still image with the ultrasound and then she put her hands on both sides of him. She pushed her thumbs down into his flanks and he cried. "Okay," Martha sighed and put the ultrasound probe down. "You're taking a trip into our CAT scanner."

"Not a… cat person," the Doctor groaned as Martha stopped her torture and instead caressed his head.

"Anita, can you go and make sure that it is free."

"Going to be…" the Doctor gasped. Jack grabbed the bowl and helped him to sit up a bit. He gagged and dry heaved but his stomach was empty save for foul sour acid that burned his throat but didn't seem to get high enough for him to be able to spit it out making him gag and heave again and again. He retched and gagged uncomfortably.

"Take deep breaths, Doctor," Martha encouraged. "Try to breathe through your nose." She took over holding the bowl so Jack could hold him and rub his back. She looked behind him. There was definitely no obvious bruising over his flank and back.

"Doctor," Martha rubbed his shoulder as he shivered and shuddered but seemed to be able to breathe and stop gagging for a moment. "Barclay has been here just over a month and Mugumbo got him and Nathan straight in. When I did his medical he was black and blue. He had some pretty nasty bruising. He said he was okay, but that the bus ride through the wormhole onto the desert planet was pretty rough, and that you all got thrown all over the place. Is that the last adventure you were on?"

"Been to other places," the Doctor commented.

"Where?"

"Just places. Nowhere really bad or anything. Just wandering."

"You've got no visible bruising, but in the last week or so have you taken a blow to your lower back?" Martha asked him.

"Is something else wrong?" Jack worried.

"His left kidney is enlarged and swollen. I need to get him in the CAT scan and see what is going on, but, if he'd bruised it when he fell from the ladder I'd have expected to see some skin discoloration. I'm thinking that perhaps he's done it in the last fortnight, expected it to heal up fine and given it no thought, and then because we gave him all those drugs it has put his kidney under more strain. It's definitely not working properly and it's painful for him. It would narrow down the potential causes if he had bruised it recently," Martha explained.

"Have you been getting yourself beaten up again?" Jack asked the Doctor quietly. The Doctor groaned, but it wasn't just pained. It was also a groan of realisation.

"What did you do?" Martha asked him.

"Chased a cheese down a hill."

"Pardon?" Jack thought he had gone completely mad.

"I like cheese."

"But you chased a cheese down a hill?"

"Cooper's Hill. I'd never done it. It looked like fun, but I got knocked over and a guy kneed me in the back. It was a bit sore for a couple of days."

"Was that to the left side of your back?"

"Yeah."

"I think you may have got a bruised kidney and although it didn't cause any issues. We've since tried to kill you with our misguided drug cocktail and it's both highlighted and complicated that damage."

"Sounds feasible... so why the scan?"

"I need to check there are no stones, blockages, or bleeds around the kidney and if I try to do that with the ultrasound then it is just going to hurt you too much. So, you get a trip into our CT scanner. I will actually do your leg as well, see how that is looking in terms of the soft tissue injuries."

"What about your briefing?" Anita asked reminding Martha she was supposed to be elsewhere. "Do you want Gerald and I to coordinate the scan?" she asked.

"Are you okay with that, Doctor?"

"As long as it is Gerald and not James."

"James is not going to be available for a few days at least," Martha told him.

"Good."

"Don't be mean," Jack commented. "Do you know why he's not going to be available?" Jack asked him.

"Nope."

"He's having surgery on his knee," Jack advised the Doctor. "He put it off as long as he could so he could come and split your cast. He did that and then went straight in to get ready for his own operation. I know you don't like him much, but he is doing his best for you."

"Maybe."

"I will go and do the briefing and get Gerald to put you through the scanner. If he's going to do that we will get a full MRI as well," Martha suggested and looked to Anita. "By the time I get back from the briefing I want his full blood and urine analyses done too. And get the scans of his abdomen and of his leg. Oh, and what the Hell, if he's going down there anyway, get another scan of his head just to make sure the dizziness and nausea is related to renal colic rather than his head injury," Martha instructed formally. "Then bath, bed, and thermals," she commented and Anita nodded that she understood. "Is that okay with you, Doctor?"

"I think so."

"Good, I shouldn't be more than an hour. We're doing an incident briefing with questions and answers when we still don't have any proper answers," Martha commented.

"It does not make sense," the Doctor repeated. "I just can't think why." He rubbed the right side of his face and his head. He wished it would stop with the pounding. Martha rubbed his shoulder. She knew how wretched he had to be feeling. Hopefully when they got the scans they might be able to do something, but she suspected he was just going to have to rest and allow his body to heal. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to make it up to him that he'd turned up with a broken leg and they had almost killed him. It didn't matter if it was unforeseen and accidental. He was sick and it was because of a mistake she had made and he had almost died in her care and he remained worryingly unwell. Now she was going to have to face a theatre of people asking questions.


End file.
